.(»)-»       .1 


LOS  ANGELES 
STATE  NOHMAL  SCHOOL 


THE   BOOKLOVER  AND   HIS   BOOKS 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/bookloverhisbool<OOkoopiala 


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From  the  Dujeslum  Novum  of  Justinian,  printed  at  Venicf!  by  Jenson  in  i^~~- 
The  tvpe  pape  of  which  this  is  a  reduction  measures  12, '2  by  8(4  inches. 
'I  he  initials  in  the  original  have  been  filled  in  by  hand  in  red  and  blue. 

From  till'  cojiy  in  the  Library  of  Brown  University 


:^c^- 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND 
HIS  BOOKS 


BY 

HARRY   LYMAN   KOOPMAN,    Litt.D. 

LIBRARIAN  OF  BROWN  UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON 
THE   BOSTON   BOOK   COMPANY 


Copyright,  1916, 
6t  The  Bostoh  Book  Compart 


THE  UHITERSITT   PRESS,  CAMDRIDGE,   V.  S.  A.. 


% 

IIU 


TO 

THE   AUTHORS   AND  THEIR   PRINTERS 

WHO   HAVE  GIVEN    US 

THE   BOOKS  THAT  WE   LOVE 


PREFATORY    NOTE 


HE  following  chapters  were  written  during 
a  series  of  years  as  one  aspect  after  another 
of  the  Book  engaged  the  writer's  attention. 
As  they  are  now  brought  together,  the  re- 
sult is  not  a  systematic  treatise,  but  rather 
a  succession  of  views  of  one  many-sided 
subject.  In  consequence  there  is  considerable  overlapping. 
The  writer  hopes,  however,  that  this  will  be  looked  upon 
not  as  vain  repetition  but  as  a  legitimate  reinforcement  of  his 
underlying  theme,  the  unity  in  diversity  of  the  Book  and  the 
federation  of  all  who  have  to  do  with  it.  He  therefore  offers 
the  present  volume  not  so  much  for  continuous  reading  as 
for  reading  by  chapters.  He  trusts  that  for  those  who  may 
consult  it  in  connection  with  systematic  study  a  sufficient  clue 
to  whatever  it  may  contain  on  any  given  topic  will  be  found 
in  the  index. 

Most  of  these  chapters  appeared  as  papers  in  "The 
Printing  Art";  two  were  published  in  "The  Graphic  Arts," 
and  some  in  other  magazines.  The  writer  expresses  his 
thanks  to  the  proprietors  of  these  periodicals  for  the  per- 
mission to  republish  the  articles  in  their  present  collective 
form.  All  the  papers  have  been  revised  to  some  extent. 
They  were  originally  written  in  rare  moments  of  leisure 
scattered  through  the  busy  hours  of  a  librarian.  Their  writ- 
ing was  a  source  of  pleasure,  and  their  first  publication 
brought  him  many  delightful  associations.  As  they  are 
presented  in  their  new  attire  to  another  group  of  readers, 
their  author  can  wish  for  them  no  better  fortune  than  to 
meet  —  possibly  to  make  —  booklovers. 


Browh  Urivbrsity  Library, 
Commeucement  Day,  191 6 


[vii] 


TABLE  OF   CONTENTS 

Books  and  Booklovers 3 

Fitness  in  Book  Design 9 

Print  as  an  Interpreter  of  Meaning i4 

Favorite  Book  Sizes 19 

The  Value  of  Reading 38 

The  Book  of  To-day  and  the  Book  of  To-morrow  ...  33 

A  Constructive  Critic  of  the  Book 38 

Books  as  a  Librarian  Would  Like  Them A4 

The  Book  Beautiful 49 

The  Reader's  High  Privilege 63 

The  Background  of  the  Book 79 

The  Chinese  Book 87 

Thick  Paper  and  Thin 92 

The  Clothing  of  a  Book 97 

Parchment  Bindings 102 

Lest  We  Forget  the  Few  Great  Books io4 

Printing  Problems  for  Science  to  Solve ii5 

Types  and  Eyes:   The  Problem 120 

Types  and  Eyes:   Progress 128 

Exceptions  to  the  Rule  of  Legibility i34 

The  Student  and  the  Library i39 

Orthographic  Reform i45 

The  Perversities  of  Type i52 

A  Secret  of  Personal  Power 162 

Index 171 


THE   BOOKLOVER  AND   HIS   BOOKS 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS 
BOOKS 

BOOKS  AND  BOOKLOVERS' 


HE  booklover  is  distinguished  from  the 
reader  as  such  by  loving  his  books,  and  from 
the  collector  as  such  by  reading  them.  He 
prizes  not  only  the  soul  of  the  book,  but  also 
its  body,  which  he  would  make  a  house  beau- 
tiful, meet  for  the  indwelling  of  the  spirit 
given  by  its  author.  Love  is  not  too  strong  a  word  to  apply 
to  his  regard,  which  demands,  in  the  language  of  Dorothy 
Wordsworth,  '  'a  beautiful  book,  a  book  to  caress — peculiar, 
distinctive,  individual:  a  book  that  hath  first  caught  your  eye 
and  then  pleased  your  fancy."  The  truth  is  that  the  book  on 
its  physical  side  is  a  highly  organized  art  object.  Not  in  vain 
has  it  transmitted  the  thought  and  passion  of  the  ages;  it  has 
taken  toll  of  them,  and  in  the  hands  of  its  worthiest  makers 
these  elements  have  worked  themselves  out  into  its  material 
body.  Enshrining  the  artist's  thought,  it  has,  therefore,  the 
qualities  of  a  true  art  product,  and  stands  second  only  to  those 
which  express  it,  such  as  painting  and  sculpture;  but  no  other 
art  product  of  its  own  order,  not  the  violin  nor  the  jewel- 
casket,  can  compare  with  the  book  in  esthetic  quality.    It 

^  The  substance  of   an  address  delivered  Nov.    18,   1909,  in  the  Boston  Public 
Library,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Society  of  Printers. 

[3] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

meets  one  of  the  highest  tests  of  art,  for  it  can  appeal  t6  the 
senses  of  both  beauty  and  grandeur,  either  separately,  as  in 
the  work  of  Aldus  and  of  Sweynheym  and  Pannartz,  or  to- 
gether, as  in  that  of  Jenson. 

Books  have  doubtless  had  their  lovers  in  all  ages,  under  all 
their  forms.  Even  the  Assyrian  clay  tablet,  if  stamped  with 
the  words  of  poet  or  sage,  might  have  shared  the  affection 
which  they  inspired.  So  might  the  papyrus  roll  of  the  Egyp- 
tian, and  so  does  even  to-day  the  parchment  book  of  the 
middle  ages,  whenever  its  fortunate  owner  has  the  soul  of 
a  booklover.  From  this  book  our  own  was  derived,  yet  not 
without  a  break.  For  our  book  is  not  so  much  a  copy  of  the 
Roman  and  medieval  book  as  a  "substitute"  for  it,  a  machine 
product  made  originally  to  sell  at  a  large  profit  for  the  price 
of  hand-work.  It  was  fortunate  for  the  early  printed  book 
that  it  stood  in  this  intimate  if  not  honored  relation  to  the 
work  of  the  scribes  and  illuminators,  and  fortunate  for  the 
book  of  to-day,  since,  with  all  its  lapses,  it  cannot  escape 
its  heritage  of  those  high  standards. 

Mr.  John  Cotton  Dana  has  analyzed  the  book  into  forty 
elements;  a  minuter  analysis  might  increase  the  number  to 
sixty;  but  of  either  number  the  most  are  subsidiary,  a  few 
controlling.  The  latter  are  those  of  which  each,  if  decided 
upon  first,  determines  the  character  of  the  rest;  they  include 
size,  paper,  and  type.  The  mention  of  any  size,  folio,  quarto, 
octavo,  twelvemo,  sixteenmo,  calls  up  at  once  a  distinct  mental 
picture  of  an  ideal  book  for  each  dimension,  and  the  series  is 
marked  by  a  decreasing  thickness  of  paper  and  size  of  type  as 
it  progresses  downward  from  the  folio.  The  proportions  of 
the  page  will  also  vary,  as  well  as  the  surface  of  the  paper 
and  the  cut  of  the  type,  the  other  elements  conforming  to 
that  first  chosen. 

Next  to  size,  paper  determines  the  expression  of  a  book.    It 


BOOKS  AND  BOOKLOVERS 

is  the  printing  material  par  excellence;  but  for  its  production 
the  art  could  never  have  flourished.  It  is  as  much  preferred 
bj  the  printer  as  parchment  was  by  the  scribe.  Its  three  ele- 
ments of  body,  surface,  and  tint  must  all  be  considered,  and 
either  body  or  surface  may  determine  the  size  of  the  book  or 
the  character  of  the  type.  A  smooth  surface  may  be  an  ele- 
ment of  beauty,  as  with  the  paper  employed  by  Baskerville, 
but  it  must  not  be  a  shiny  surface.  The  great  desideratum 
in  modern  paper  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  book-buyer 
is  a  paper  that,  while  opaque  and  tough,  shall  be  thin  enough 
to  give  us  our  books  in  small  compass,  one  more  akin  to  the 
dainty  and  precious  vellum  than  to  the  heavier  and  coarser 
parchment.    It  should  also  be  durable. 

Type  gives  its  name  to  the  art  and  is  the  instrument  by 
which  the  spoken  word  is  made  visible  to  the  eye.  The  aims 
in  its  design  should  be  legibility,  beauty,  and  compactness, 
in  this  order;  but  these  are  more  or  less  conflicting  qualities, 
and  it  is  doubtful  if  any  one  design  can  surpass  in  all .  Modern 
type  is  cleaner-cut  than  the  old,  but  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  this  is  a  real  gain.  William  Morris  held  that  all  types 
should  avoid  hair-lines,  fussiness,  and  ugliness.  Legibility 
should  have  the  right  of  way  for  most  printed  matter,  espe- 
cially children's  books  and  newspapers.  If  the  latter  desire 
compactness,  they  should  condense  their  style,  not  their 
types. 

A  further  important  element,  which  affects  both  the  legi- 
bility and  the  durability  of  the  book,  is  the  ink.  For  most 
purposes  it  should  be  a  rich  black.  Some  of  the  print  of  the 
early  masters  is  now  brown,  and  there  have  been  fashions  of 
gray  printing,  but  the  booklover  demands  black  ink,  except 
in  ornaments,  and  there  color,  if  it  is  to  win  his  favor,  must 
be  used  sparingly  and  with  great  skill.  We  are  told  that  the 
best  combination  for  the  eye  is  ink  of  a  bluish  tint  on  buff"- 

[5] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

tinted  paper;  but,  like  much  other  good  advice,  this  remains 
practically  untried. 

Illustrations  have  been  a  feature  of  the  book  for  over  four 
hundred  years,  but  they  have  hardly  yet  become  naturalized 
within  its  pages.  Or  shall  we  say  that  they  soon  forgot  their 
proper  subordination  to  the  type  and  have  since  kept  up  a 
more  or  less  open  revolt  ?  The  law  of  fitness  demands  that 
whatever  is  introduced  into  the  book  in  connection  with  type 
shall  harmonize  with  the  relatively  heavy  lines  of  type.  This 
the  early  black-line  engravings  did.  But  the  results  of  all 
other  processes,  from  copper-plate  to  half-tone,  conflict  with 
the  type-picture  and  should  be  placed  where  they  are  not 
seen  with  it.  Photogravures,  for  instance,  may  be  put  at 
the  end  of  the  book,  or  they  may  be  covered  with  a  piece  of 
opaque  tissue  paper,  so  that  either  their  page  or  the  facing 
type-page  will  be  seen  alone.  We  cannot  do  without  illus- 
trations. All  mankind  love  a  picture  as  they  love  a  lover. 
But  let  the  pictures  belong  to  the  book  and  not  merely  be 
thrust  into  it. 

The  binding  is  to  the  book  what  the  book  is  to  its  subject- 
matter,  a  clothing  and  protection.  In  the  middle  ages,  when 
books  were  so  few  as  to  be  a  distinction,  they  were  displayed 
sidewise,  not  edgewise,  on  the  shelves,  and  their  covers  were 
often  richly  decorated,  sometimes  with  costly  gems.  Even 
the  wooden  cover  of  the  pre-Columbian  Mexican  book  had 
gems  set  in  its  corners.  Modern  ornamentation  is  confined 
to  tooling,  blind  and  gilt,  and  inlaying.  But  some  book- 
lovers  question  whether  any  decoration  really  adds  to  the 
beauty  of  the  finest  leather.  It  should  be  remembered  that 
the  binding  is  not  all  on  the  outside.  The  visible  cover  is 
only  the  jacket  of  the  real  cover  on  which  the  integrity  of 
the  book  depends.  The  sewing  is  the  first  element  in  time 
and  importance.    To  be  well  bound  a  book  should  lie  open 

[6] 


>S» 


BOOKS  AND  BOOKLOVERS 

well,  otherwise  it  is  bound  not  for  the  reader  but  only  for 
the  collector. 

It  cannot  be  too  often  repeated  that  properly  made  books 
are  not  extremely  costly.  A  modern  book  offered  at  a  fancy 
price  means  either  a  very  small  edition,  an  extravagant  bind- 
ing, or  what  is  more  likely,  a  gullible  public.  But  most 
books  that  appeal  to  the  booklover  are  not  excessive  in  price. 
Never  before  was  so  much  money  spent  in  making  books 
attractive — for  the  publisher  always  has  half  an  eye  on  the 
booklover — and  while  much  of  this  money  is  wasted,  not 
all  is  laid  out  in  vain.  Our  age  is  producing  its  quota  of 
good  books,  and  these  the  booklover  makes  it  his  business 
to  discover. 

In  order  to  appreciate,  the  booklover  must  first  know. 
He  must  be  a  book-kenner,  a  critic,  but  one  who  is  looking 
for  excellencies  rather  than  faults,  and  this  knowledge  there 
are  many  books  to  teach  him.  But  there  is  no  guide  that 
can  impart  the  love  of  books;  he  must  learn  to  love  them  as 
one  learns  to  love  sunsets,  mountains,  and  the  ocean,  by 
seeing  them.  So  let  him  who  would  know  the  joys  and  re- 
wards of  the  booklover  associate  with  well-made  books. 
Let  him  begin  with  the  ancients  of  printing,  the  great  Ger- 
mans, Italians,  Dutchmen.  He  can  still  buy  their  books  if 
he  is  well-to-do,  or  see  them  in  libraries  and  museums  if  he 
belongs  to  the  majority.  Working  down  to  the  moderns,  he 
will  find  himself  discriminating  and  rejecting,  but  he  will  be 
attracted  by  certain  printers  and  certain  periods  in  the  last 
four  hundred  years,  and  he  will  be  rejoiced  to  find  that  the 
last  thirty  years,  though  following  a  decline,  hold  their  own 
—  not  by  their  mean  but  by  their  best — with  any  former 
period  short  of  the  great  first  half-century,  i45o-i5oo. 

Finally,  if  his  book-love  develops  the  missionary  spirit  in 
him,  let  him  lend  his  support  to  the  printers  and  publishers 

[7J 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

of  to-day  who  are  producing  books  worthy  of  the  booklover's 
regard,  for  in  no  other  way  can  he  so  effectually  speed  the 
day  when  all  books  shall  justify  the  emotion  which  more 
than  five  hundred  years  ago  Richard  de  Bury,  Bishop  of 
Durham,  expressed  in  the  title  of  his  famous  and  still 
cherished  work,  the  Philobiblon. 


[8] 


FITNESS   IN   BOOK  DESIGN 


^  WOMAN'S  fitness  comes  by  fits,"  said 
slanderous  Cloten;  but  to  say  as  much  of 
fitness  in  book  design  would  be  on  the 
whole  a  compliment.  Fitness  as  applied 
to  book  design  means,  of  course,  that  the 
material  form  of  the  book  shall  correspond 
to  its  spiritual  substance,  shall  be  no  finer  and  no  meaner, 
and  shall  produce  a  like,  even  if  a  slighter,  esthetic  impres- 
sion. At  the  outset  we  have  to  surrender  to  commercialism 
more  than  half  our  territory.  All  agree  that  our  kings  should 
be  clothed  in  purple  and  our  commoners  in  broadcloth;  but 
how  about  the  intellectual  riffraff  that  makes  up  the  majority 
of  our  books  ?  Are  our  publishers  willing  that  these  should 
be  clothed  according  to  their  station?  Hardly;  for  then 
would  much  of  their  own  occupation  be  gone.  It  is  recog- 
nized that  for  a  large  proportion  of  our  publications  the 
design — the  outward  appearance  —  is  in  great  measure 
counted  on  to  sell  the  book;  and  printers  and  publishers 
will  not  consent  to  send  the  paupers  of  literature  forth  upon 
the  world  in  their  native  rags,  for  so  they  would  find  no 
one  to  welcome  them.  It  will  be  useless  to  quarrel  with  the 
fact  that  the  design  of  many  books  is  meant  as  a  bait  and 
not  as  a  simple  interpretation  of  their  meaning  and  worth. 
Design  of  this  character,  however,  is  relatively  easy;  it  is 
really  not  design  at  all,  but  millinery.  It  is  when  his  work 
becomes  genuinely  interpretative  that  the  designer's  diffi- 
culties begin. 

[9] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

The  first  business  of  the  designer,  therefore,  is  to  under- 
stand the  book  he  is  treating.  Here,  of  course,  his  judg- 
ment, however  sincere,  may  be  mistaken  or  misled.  A 
classical  instance  of  this  is  found  in  connection  with  one  of 
the  most  famous  books  in  the  history  of  modern  printing,  — 
Barlow's  "Golumbiad.  "  This  work,  which  first  appeared 
in  1787  under  a  different  title,  was  enlarged  to  epic  propor- 
tions during  the  next  twenty  years,  and  was  finally  given  to 
the  world  in  1807  in  the  belief  on  the  part  of  its  author  and 
in  the  hope  at  least  on  the  part  of  its  publisher  that  it  would 
take  rank  and  be  honored  for  all  time  as  the  great  American 
epic.  Under  this  misconception  the  book  was  clothed  in  a 
form  that  might  worthily  have  enshrined  "Paradise  Lost." 
Its  stately  quarto  pages  were  set  in  a  type  specially  designed 
for  the  work  and  taking  from  it  the  name  of  Columbian. 
The  volume  was  embellished  with  full-page  engravings 
after  paintings  in  the  heroic  manner  by  Smirke;  in  short, 
it  was  the  most  pretentious  book  issued  in  America  up  to 
that  time,  and  it  still  ranks,  in  the  words  of  Professor 
Barrett  Wendell,  "  among  the  most  impressive  books  to 
look  at  in  the  world."  But  alas  for  the  vanity  of  human 
aspirations  I  "The  Columbiad "  is  now  remembered  as 
a  contribution  to  typography  rather  than  literature.  The 
designer  overshot  his  author. 

We  have  tacitly  assumed  that  a  book  has  but  one  inter- 
pretation and  therefore  but  one  most  appropriate  design. 
This,  however,  is  far  from  the  truth.  When,  after  various 
more  or  less  successful  editions  of  Irving's  ' '  Knicker- 
bocker" had  appeared,  Mr.  Updike  brought  out  some 
twenty  years  ago  his  comic  edition,  with  the  whole  make-up 
of  the  book  expressive  of  the  clumsy  and  stupid  Dutchmen 
depicted  in  Irving's  miock-heroic,  we  felt  at  the  raioment 
that  here  was  the  one  ideal  "  Knickerbocker."    Yet,  much 

[,o] 


FITNESS  IN  BOOK  DESIGN 

as  we  still  admire  it,  does  it  wholly  satisfy  us?  Is  there  not 
as  much  room  as  ever  for  an  edition  that  shall  express  pri- 
marily not  the  absurdity  of  its  subject-matter,  but  the  deli- 
cate playfulness  of  Irving's  humor  and  the  lightness  and 
grace  of  his  exuberant  style?  Has  there  ever  been  a  final 
"Don  Quixote"?  Certainly  not  in  the  recent  monumental 
editions  with  their  quagmire  of  footnotes.  Moreover,  if 
we  had  a  final  edition  of  the  great  romance  it  would  not 
remain  final  for  our  children's  children.  Every  age  will 
make  its  own  interpretations  of  the  classics  and  will  demand 
that  they  be  embodied  in  contemporary  design.  Thus 
every  age  in  its  book  design  mirrors  itself  for  future  admi- 
ration or  contempt. 

Obviously,  in  giving  form  to  a  single  work  a  designer  is 
freer  than  in  handling  a  series  by  one  or  by  various  authors. 
In  such  cases  he  must  seize  upon  more  general  and  there- 
fore less  salient  characteristics.  The  designer  of  ' '  Hiawatha" 
or  "Evangeline"  has  a  fairly  clear  task  before  him,  with  a 
chance  of  distinct  success  or  failure ;  but  the  designer  of 
an  appropriate  form  for  the  whole  series  of  Longfellow's 
works,  both  prose  and  poetry,  has  a  less  individualized 
problem,  and  must  think  of  the  elements  that  run  through 
all,  —  sweetness,  grace,  gentleness,  dignity,  learning.  Yet, 
though  general,  these  qualities  in  a  series  may  be  far  from 
vague.  We  have  only  to  consider  the  absurdity  of  a  handy- 
volume  Gibbon  or  a  folio  Lamb.  On  looking  at  the  bulky, 
large-type,  black-covered  volumes  of  the  Forman  edition  of 
Shelley  and  Keats  one  instinctively  asks,  "What  crime  did 
these  poets  commit  that  they  should  be  so  impounded?  " 
The  original  edition  of  the  life  of  Tennyson  by  his  son,  in 
two  lumbering,  royal  octavo  volumes,  comes  near  to  what 
Thackeray  called  the  Farnese  Hercules,  "a  hulking  abor- 
tion."   Contrast  with  it  the  dignity  linked  with  charm  of 

["] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

the  original  edition  of  Longfellow's  life  by  his  brother. 
But  of  all  monstrosities  of  book  design  the  British  three- 
volume  novel  mania  is  responsible  for  some  of  the  worst. 
Henry  Ward  Beecher's  one  novel,  "Norwood,"  which 
appeared  in  America  becomingly  clad  in  a  single  volume, 
received  in  England  the  regulation  three-volume  dress,  in 
which  it  looks  as  ridiculously  inflated  as  did  a  slender 
miss  of  that  period  in  the  crinoline  then  in  vogue.  There 
is  one  abomination  in  book  design  for  which  I  owe  a  per- 
sonal grudge  to  commercialism,  and  that  is  the  dropsical 
book  form  given  to  Locker-Lampson's  "  My  Confidences." 
If  ever  there  was  a  winsome  bit  of  writing  it  is  this,  and  it 
should  have  made  a  book  to  take  to  one's  heart,  something 
not  larger  than  a  "Golden  Treasury"  volume,  but  of  indi- 
vidual design.  My  comfort  is  that  this  will  yet  be  done, 
and  my  belief  is  that  art  will  justify  itself  better  in  the 
market  than  commercialism  did.  A  more  modern  instance 
of  expansion  for  commercial  reasons  defeating  fitness  in 
design  is  furnished  by  Waters'  translation  of  ' '  The  Journal 
of  Montaigne's  Travels."  Here  we  have  three  small  volumes 
outwardly  attractive,  but  printed  on  paper  thick  enough  for 
catalogue  cards,  and  therefore  too  stiff  for  the  binding,  also 
in  type  too  large  to  be  pleasant.  The  whole  should  have 
been  issued  in  one  volume  of  the  same  size  in  smaller  type, 
and  would  then  have  been  as  delightful  in  form  as  it  is  in 
substance. 

It  is  not  enough  that  all  the  elements  of  a  book  be  honest, 
sincere,  enduring;  otherwise  the  clumsy  royal  octavos  of  Les- 
lie Stephen's  edition  of  Fielding  would  be  as  attractive  as  ' '  the 
dear  and  dumpy  twelves  "  of  the  original  editions.  Royal 
octavo,  indeed,  seems  to  be  the  pitfall  of  the  book  designer, 
though  there  is  no  inherent  objection  to  it.  Where  in  the 
whole  range  of  reference  books  will  be  found  a  more  attrac- 

[.3] 


FITNESS  IN  BOOK  DESIGN 

tlve  set  of  volumes  than  Moulton's  "Library  of  Literary 
Criticism,  "  with  their  realization  in  this  format  of  the  Hora- 
tian  simplex  munditiis?  For  extremely  different  treatments  of 
this  book  size  it  is  instructive  to  compare  the  slender  volumes 
of  the  original  editions  of  Ruskin  with  the  slightly  shorter 
but  very  much  thicker  volumes  of  the  scholarly  definitive 
edition,  which  is  a  monument  of  excellence  in  every  ele- 
ment of  book  design  except  the  crowning  one  of  fitness.  Our 
libraries  must  have  this  edition  for  its  completeness  and  its 
editorship;  its  material  excellence  will  insure  the  trans- 
mission of  Ruskin's  message  to  future  centuries  ;  but  no  one 
will  ever  fall  in  love  with  these  volumes  or  think  of  likening 
them  to  the  marriage  of  "perfect  music  unto  noble  words." 
Granted  that  the  designer  knows  the  tools  of  his  trade, — 
grasps  the  expressional  value  of  every  element  with  which 
he  has  to  deal,  from  the  cut  of  a  type  to  the  surface  of  a 
binder's  cloth,  — his  task,  as  we  said,  is  first  to  know  the  soul 
of  the  book  intrusted  to  him  for  embodiment ;  it  is  next  to 
decide  upon  its  most  characteristic  quality,  or  the  sum  of  its 
qualities;  and,  lastly,  it  is  so  to  use  his  physical  elements  as 
to  give  to  the  completed  book  an  expression  that  shall  be 
the  outward  manifestation  of  its  indwelling  spirit.  This  is 
all  that  can  be  asked  of  him ;  but,  if  he  would  add  a  touch 
of  perfection,  let  him  convey  the  subtle  tribute  of  a  sense  of 
the  value  of  his  subject  by  reflecting  in  his  design  the  artist's 
joy  in  his  work. 


[.3] 


PRINT  AS   AN   INTERPRETER  OF 
MEANING 


HE  invention  of  printing,  we  have  often 
been  told,  added  to  book  production  only 
the  tvv^o  commercial  elements  of  speed  and 
cheapness.  As  regards  the  book  itself,  we 
are  assured,  printing  not  only  added  noth- 
C'^'s^^^^Kj:/^  ing,  but,  during  the  four  and  a  half  cen- 
turies of  its  development,  has  constantly  tended  to  take  away. 
These  statements  are  no  doubt  historically  and  theoretically 
true,  yet  they  are  so  unjust  to  the  present-day  art  that  some 
supplementary  statement  of  our  obligations  to  printing  seems 
called  for,  aside  from  the  obvious  rejoinder  that,  even  if 
speed  and  cheapness  are  commercial  qualities,  they  have 
reached  a  development — especially  in  the  newspaper — be- 
yond the  dreams  of  the  most  imaginative  fifteenth-century 
inventor,  and  have  done  nothing  less  than  revolutionize  the 
world. 

Taking  the  service  of  printing  as  it  stands  to-day,  what 
does  it  actually  do  for  the  reader?  What  is  the  great  differ- 
ence between  the  printed  word  and  even  the  best  hand- 
writing? It  is  obviously  the  condensation  and  the  absolute 
mechanical  sameness  of  print.  The  advantage  of  these 
differences  to  the  eye  in  respect  to  rapid  reading  is  hardly  to 
be  overestimated.  Let  any  one  take  a  specimen  of  average 
penmanship  and  note  the  time  which  he  consumes  in  read- 
ing it ;  let  him  compare  with  this  the  time  occupied  in  reading 
the  same  number  of  printed  words,  and  the  difference  will 

[.4] 


PRINT  AS  AN  INTERPRETER  OF  MEANING 

be  startling;  but  not  even  so  will  it  do  justice  to  print,  for 
handwriting  average  in  quality  is  very  far  from  average  in 
frequency.  If  it  be  urged  that  the  twentieth-century  com- 
parison should  be  between  typewriting  and  print,  we  may 
reply  that  typewriting  is  print,  though  it  lacks  most  of  its 
condensation,  and  that  the  credit  for  its  superior  legibility 
belongs  to  typography,  of  which  the  new  art  is  obviously  a 
by-product.  But  we  are  not  yet  out  of  the  manuscript  period, 
so  far  as  private  records  are  concerned,  and  it  still  is  true,  as 
it  has  been  for  many  generations,  that  print  multiplies  the 
years  of  every  scholar's  and  reader's  life. 

At  this  point  we  may  even  introduce  a  claim  for  print  as 
a  contributor  to  literature.  There  are  certainly  many  books 
of  high  literary  standing  that  never  would  have  attained 
their  present  form  without  the  intervention  of  type.  It  is 
well  known  that  Garlyle  rewrote  his  books  in  proof,  so 
that  the  printer,  instead  of  attempting  to  correct  his  galleys, 
reset  them  outright.  Balzac  went  a  step  further,  and  largely 
wrote  his  novels  in  proof,  if  such  an  expression  may  be 
allowed.  He  so  altered  and  expanded  them  that  what  went 
to  the  printing  office  as  copy  for  a  novelette  finally  came 
out  of  it  a  full-sized  novel.  Even  where  the  changes  are 
not  so  extensive,  as  in  the  proof-sheets  of  the  Waverley 
Novels  preserved  in  the  Cornell  University  Library,  it  is 
interesting  to  trace  the  alterations  which  the  author  was 
prompted  to  make  by  the  sight  of  his  paragraphs  clothed  in 
the  startling  distinctness  of  print.  Nor  is  this  at  all  surpris- 
ing when  one  considers  how  much  better  the  eye  can  take 
in  the  thought  and  style  of  a  composition  from  the  printed 
page  than  it  can  even  from  typewriting.  The  advantage  is 
so  marked  that  some  publishers,  before  starting  on  an 
expensive  literary  venture,  are  accustomed  to  have  the  copy 
set  up  on  the  linotype  for  the  benefit  of  their  critics.    If  the 

[.5] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

work  is  accepted,  the  revisions  are  made  on  these  sheets, 
and  then,  finally,  the  work  is  sent  hack  to  the  composing 
room  to  receive  the  more  elaborate  typographic  dress  in 
which  it  is  to  appear. 

But  to  return  to  the  advantages  of  type  to  the  reader. 
Handwriting  can  make  distinctions,  such  as  punctuation 
and  paragraphing,  but  print  can  greatly  enforce  them.  The 
meaning  of  no  written  page  leaps  out  to  the  eye;  but  this 
is  the  regular  experience  of  the  reader  with  every  well- 
printed  page.  While  printing  can  do  nothing  on  a  single 
page  that  is  beyond  the  power  of  a  skillful  penman,  its  ordi- 
nary resources  are  the  extraordinary  ones  of  manuscript. 
It  might  not  be  physically  impossible,  for  instance,  to  dupli- 
cate with  a  pen  a  page  of  the  Century  Dictionary,  but  it 
would  be  practically  impossible,  and,  if  the  pen  were  our 
only  resource,  we  never  should  have  such  a  marvel  of  con- 
densation and  distinctness  as  that  triumph  of  typography  in 
the  service  of  scholarship. 

In  ordinary  text,  printing  has  grown  away  from  the  dis- 
tinctions to  the  eye  that  were  in  vogue  two  hundred  years 
ago — a  gain  to  art  and  perhaps  to  legibility  also,  though 
contemporary  critics  like  Franklin  lamented  the  change  — 
but  in  reference  books  we  have  attained  to  a  finer  skill  in 
making  distinctions  to  the  eye  than  our  forefathers  achieved 
with  all  their  typographic  struggles.  Nor  are  our  reference 
pages  lacking  in  beauty.  But  our  familiarity  with  works  of 
this  class  tends  to  obscure  their  wonderful  merit  as  time- 
savers  and  eye-savers.  It  is  only  when  we  take  up  some 
foreign  dictionary,  printed  with  little  contrast  of  type,  per- 
haps in  German  text,  and  bristling  with  unmeaning  abbre- 
viations, that  we  appreciate  our  privilege.  Surely  this  is  a 
marvelous  mechanical  triumph,  to  present  the  words  of  an 
author  in  such  a  form  that  the  eye,  to  take  it  in,  needs  but 

[.6] 


PRINT  AS  AN  INTERPRETER  OF  MEANING 

to  sweep  rapidly  down  the  page,  or,  if  it  merely  glances  at 
the  page,  it  shall  have  the  meaning  of  the  whole  so  focused 
in  a  few  leading  words  that  it  can  turn  at  once  to  the 
passage  sought,  or  see  that  it  must  look  elsewhere.  The 
saving  of  time  so  effected  may  be  interpreted  either  as  a 
lengthening  of  life  or  as  an  increased  fullness  of  life,  but  it 
means  also  a  lessening  of  friction  and  thus  an  addition  to 
human  comfort.  \ 

We  have  been  speaking  of  prose ;  but  print  has  done  as 
much  or  more  to  interpret  the  meaning  of  poetry.  We 
have  before  us  a  facsimile  of  nineteen  lines  from  the  oldest 
Vatican  manuscript  of  Vergil.  The  hexameters  are  written 
in  single  lines ;  but  this  is  the  only  help  to  the  eye.  The 
letters  are  capitals  and  are  individually  very  beautiful, 
indeed,  the  lines  are  like  ribbons  of  rich  decoration ;  but 
the  words  are  not  separated,  and  the  punctuation  is  incon- 
spicuous and  primitively  simple,  consisting  merely  of  faint 
dots.  Modern  poetry,  especially  lyric,  with  its  wealth  and 
interplay  of  rhyme,  affords  a  fine  opportunity  for  the  printer 
to  mediate  between  the  poet  and  his  public,  and  this  he  has 
been  able  to  do  by  mere  indention  and  leading,  without 
resorting  to  distinction  of  type.  The  reader  of  a  sonnet  or 
ballad  printed  without  these  two  aids  to  the  eye  is  robbed 
of  his  rightful  clues  to  the  construction  of  the  verse.  It 
seems  hardly  possible  that  a  poem  could  have  been  read 
aloud  from  an  ancient  manuscript,  at  sight,  with  proper 
inflection;  yet  this  is  just  what  printing  can  make  possible 
for  the  modern  reader.  It  has  not  usually  done  so,  for  the 
printer  has  been  very  conservative  ;  he  has  taken  his  con- 
ception of  a  page  from  prose,  and,  not  being  compelled  to, 
has  not  placed  all  the  resources  of  his  art  at  the  service 
of  the  poet.  Accents,  pauses,  and  certain  arbitrary  signs 
might  well  be  employed  to  indicate  to  the  reader  the  way 

[>7.1 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

the  poet  meant  his  line  to  be  read.  Milton  curiously  gave 
us  some  metric  hints  by  means  of  changes  in  spelling,  but 
we  have  to  read  all  our  other  poets  in  the  light  of  our  own 
discernment,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  doctors  dis- 
agree. Even  the  caesufa,  or  pause  in  the  course  of  a  long 
line,  is  not  always  easy  to  place.  Francis  Thompson,  in 
his  poem  "A  Judgement  in  Heaven,"  has  indicated  this  by 
an  asterisk,  giving  an  example  that  might  well  be  followed  by 
other  poets  and  their  printers.  The  regularity  of  eighteenth- 
century  verse  made  little  calJi^for  guide-posts,  but  modern 
free  meter,  in  proportion  to  its  greater  flexibility  and  rich- 
ness, demands  more  assistance  to  the  reader's  eye,  or  even 
to  his  understanding.  For  instance,  to  read  aloud  hexam- 
eters or  other  long  lines,  some  of  which  have  the  initial 
accent  on  the  first  syllable  and  some  later,  is  quite  impossible 
without  previous  study  supplemented  by  a  marking  of  the 
page.  Yet  a  few  printed  accents  would  make  a  false  start 
impossible.  Poetry  will  never  require  the  elaborate  aid  from 
the  printer  which  he  gives  to  music ;  but  it  seems  clear  that 
he  has  not  yet  done  for  it  all  that  he  might  or  should. 

It  is  surely  not  an  extreme  assumption  that  the  first  duty 
of  the  printer  is  to  the  meaning  of  his  author,  and  his  second 
to  esthetics ;  but  shall  we  not  rather  say  that  his  duty  is  to 
meet  both  demands,  not  by  a  compromise,  but  by  a  com- 
plete satisfaction  of  each?  A  difficult  requirement,  surely, 
but  one  that  we  are  confident  the  twentieth-century  printer 
will  not  permit  his  critics  to  pronounce  impossible. 


[.8] 


FAVORITE   BOOK   SIZES 


^N  the  following  paper  some  account  will 
be  given  of  five  book  sizes  that  have  taken 
rank  as  favorites.  It  should  excite  no  sur- 
prise that  all  are  small  sizes.  Nature's 
favorites  are  always  small ;  her  insect 
jewels  outnumber  her  vertebrates  a  mil- 
lionfold;  and  book-loving  human  nature  takes  the  same 
delight  in  daintiness. 

There  is,  to  be  sure,  a  general  impression  that  the  first 
centuries  of  printing  were  given  up  to  folios,  the  eighteenth 
century  to  quartos  and  octavos,  and  that  only  the  present 
period  has  been  characterized  by  twelvemos  and  sixteenmos. 
We  think  of  the  Gutenberg  Bible,  the  Nuremberg  Chronicle, 
the  mighty  editions  of  the  Fathers,  the  polyglot  Bibles  of 
Paris,  London,  and  Antwerp,  —  fairly  to  be  called  limp 
teachers'  Bibles, — the  1611  Bible,  the  Shakespeare  folios; 
then  of  the  quarto  editions  of  Addison,  Pope,  Walpole,  and 
their  contemporaries,  and  the  stately  octavo  editions  of  the 
same  writers ;  and  finally  of  the  myriad  infra  that  have 
swarmed  from  the  press  during  the  last  century.  But,  when 
we  walk  through  a  library  that  offers  a  representative  collec- 
tion of  books  from  the  invention  of  printing  to  the  present, 
we  realize  that  the  bigness  of  the  folios  and  quartos  has  de- 
ceived us  as  to  their  relative  number,  all  forms  of  literature 
being  considered. 

The  parent  of  our  present  book  form,  the  Roman  codex, 
split  from  an  actual  block  of  wood,  had  a  surface  hardly  as 

[•9] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

large  as  the  cover  of  a  Little  Classic.  The  vellum  Books  of 
Hours  were  dainty  volumes.  Even  in  the  period  betw^een 
Gutenberg  and  Aldus,  books  of  moderate  size  were  not  un- 
common, and  continuously,  from  the  days  of  the  great 
Venetian  popularizer  of  literature  to  the  present,  the  small 
books  have  far  outnumbered  their  heavy-armed  allies. 
Common  sense,  indeed,  would  tell  us  that  this  must  be  so, 
even  if  it  had  not  inspired  Dr.  Johnson,  its  eighteenth  cen- 
tury exponent,  to  declare :  ' '  Books  that  you  may  carry  to 
the  fire,  and  hold  readily  in  your  hand,  are  the  most  useful 
after  all." 

Our  account  properly  begins  with  Aldus.  From  1^94, 
the  date  of  his  first  productions,  until  i5oi  he  printed  his 
books  in  folio  and  quarto.  But  in  the  first  year  of  the  new 
century  he  began  to  use  his  famous  cursive  type,  now  called 
italic.  The  fineness  of  the  new  type,  as  has  been  suggested, 
called  for  a  smaller  size  of  book,  which  was  also  favored  by 
considerations  of  economy  and  convenience ;  and  so  Aldus 
made  up  his  sheets  in  a  form  which  the  fold  compels  us  to 
call  octavo,  but  which  to-day  would  be  called  sixteenmo. 
Says  Horatio  F.  Brown,  in  his  "The  Venetian  Printing 
Press":  "The  public  welcomed  the  new  type  and  size. 
The  College  granted  Aldus  a  monopoly  for  ten  years  for  all 
books  printed  in  this  manner.  The  price  of  books  was 
lowered  at  once.  Didot  calculates  that  an  octavo  of  Aldus 
cost,  on  an  average,  two  francs  and  a  half,  whereas  a  folio 
probably  cost  about  twenty  francs.  These  two  innovations 
on  type  and  on  format  constituted  a  veritable  revolution  in 
the  printing  press  and  in  the  book  trade,  which  now  began 
to  reach  a  far  more  extensive  market  than  it  had  ever  touched 
before.  With  this  wide  diffusion  of  books  came  the  popu- 
larization of  knowledge  at  which  Aldus  aimed.  Scholarship 
began  to  lose  its  exclusive  and  aristocratic  character  when  the 

[20] 


FAVORITE  BOOK  SIZES 

classics  were  placed  within  the  reach  of  any  student  who 
chose  to  study,  meditate,  and  interpret  them  for  himself. 
And  to  Aldus  belongs  the  credit  of  having,  through  his  new 
type  and  size,  opened  the  way  to  the  democratization  of 
learning." 

That  the  taste  which  Aldus  so  successfully  hit  was  no 
merely  temporary  one,  any  person  will  be  convinced  if  he 
will  stand  before  a  shelf  full  of  these  little  Aldus  classics, 
handle  the  light,  well-proportioned  volumes,  and  take  in  the 
esthetic  charm  of  their  type  and  page  and  form,  which,  in 
spite  of  their  four  hundred  years,  by  no  means  savors  of  an- 
tiquity. In  these  books  Aldus  achieved  one  of  the  greatest 
triumphs  possible  in  any  art,  a  union  of  beauty  and  utility, 
each  on  so  high  a  plane  that  no  one  is  able  to  decide  which 
is  pre-eminent.  In  a  copy  which  I  have  before  me  of  his 
"  Rhetoricorum  ad  G.  Herennium  Libri  IIII,"  i546,  the  fine 
proportions  of  the  page  appear  in  spite  of  trimming.  Very 
noticeable  are  the  undersized  roman  capitals;  more  curious 
is  the  letter  printed  in  the  otherwise  blank  square  to  indicate 
what  initial  the  illuminator  should  insert  in  color,  and  the 
irregular  use  of  capitals  and  small  letters  after  a  period.  The 
catchword  appears  only  on  the  last  page  of  the  signature,  not 
on  every  page,  as  was  the  later  practice.  Modern  usage  wisely 
consigns  italic  to  a  subordinate  place,  but  in  point  of  beauty 
combined  with  convenience,  it  may  well  be  questioned  if  four 
centuries  of  printing  have  made  any  advance  upon  this  page. 

In  nearly  every  library  for  scholars  is  to  be  found  a  row 
of  plump  little  books  that  never  fail  to  catch  the  eye  of  the 
sightseer.  If  the  visitor  does  not  know  beforehand  what  they 
are,  he  is  little  enlightened  on  being  told  that  they  are  ' '  Elze- 
virs," and  the  attendant  must  needs  supply  the  information 
that  the  Elzevirs  were  a  family  of  Dutch  printers  who  flour- 
ished during  the  century  that  closed  with  the  arrival  of 

[a,] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

William  HI  in  England,  and  that  these  tiny  volumes  repre- 
sent their  most  popular  productions.  Says  George  Haven 
Putnam  in  his  ' '  Books  and  their  Makers  during  the  Middle 
Ages":  "The  Elzevirs,  following  the  example  set  a  century 
and  a  half  earlier  by  Aldus,  but  since  that  time  very  gener- 
ally lost  sight  of  by  the  later  publishers,  initiated  a  number 
of  series  of  books  in  small  and  convenient  forms,  twelvemo 
and  sixteenmo,  which  were  offered  to  book  buyers  at  prices 
considerably  lower  than  those  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
paying  for  similar  material  printed  in  folio,  quarto,  or  octavo. 
.  ,  .  These  well-edited,  carefully  printed,  and  low-priced 
editions  of  the  classics  won  for  the  Elzevirs  the  cordial  appre- 
ciation of  scholars  and  of  students  throughout  Europe." 

Among  the  authors  who  acknowledged  their  indebtedness 
to  the  Elzevirs  may  be  mentioned  Galileo,  the  elder  Balzac, 
and  the  poet  Menage.  I  have  before  me  more  than  six  feel 
of  shelving  filled  with  these  tiny  books.  They  are  nearly  all 
bound  in  vellum,  and  thus  retain  their  antique  appearance 
without  as  well  as  within.  Their  subject-matter  is  in  the 
fields  of  literature,  ancient  and  contemporary,  and  the  his- 
tory, geography,  and  political  constitution  of  the  principal 
countries.  The  books  of  the  latter  division  are  known  as 
"Respublicse  Varise."  It  is  impossible  to  resist  the  conclu- 
sion that  this  book  form  was  chosen  not  more  to  supply 
cheap  books  which  could  be  sold  to  impecunious  scholars 
than  to  provide  portable  volumes  for  travelers.  The  Elzevir 
"Commonwealths"  were  the  predecessors  of  our  "satchel 
guides,"  and  the  literary  publications  in  this  form  were  evi- 
dently designed  to  be  pocket  editions.  It  was  to  such  books 
that  Dr.  Johnson  referred  when  he  advised  his  friends  ' '  never 
to  go  out  without  some  little  book  or  other  in  their  pocket. 
Much  time  is  lost  by  waiting,  by  travelling,  etc.,  and  this 
may  be  prevented  by  making  use  of  every  possible  oppor- 


FAVORITE  BOOK  SIZES 

tunity  for  improvement."  When  the  positive  doctor,  on  his 
journey  to  the  Hebrides,  paid  his  tribute  to  George  Buchanan 
at  St.  Andrews,  his  acquaintance  with  the  Latin  poetry  of 
the  Scotch  professor  may  well  have  arisen  from  his  having 
thus  made  a  pocket  piece  of  one  of  the  several  Elzevir  editions 
of  the  poet. 

The  characteristics  of  the  "Elzevirs"  are  that  they  range 
from  about  four  to  about  five  inches  in  height,  are  always 
narrow,  2]  to  2|  inches  in  width,  and  are  usually  thick,  in 
some  cases  even  il  inches.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
the  esthetic  impression  of  these  "jewels  of  typography"  is 
wholly  different  from  that  produced  by  the  "Alduses."  It 
is  the  beauty  of  an  infant  compared  with  that  of  a  youth, 
and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  infant,  plumpness  is  a  part  of  the 
charm.  The  thinnest  of  the  "Elzevirs"  (about  three-fourths 
of  an  inch  thick)  lack  much  of  the  characteristic  quality.  It 
is  of  course  granted  that  no  small  portion  of  the  charm 
exerted  by  these  volumes  is  due  to  their  type,  which  in 
artistic  excellence  and  practical  effectiveness  has  hardly  been 
surpassed  before  or  since. 

When  William  Pickering,  in  i83o,  began  to  issue  his 
Aldine  edition  of  the  British  Poets  in  the  most  beautiful  and 
appropriate  form  that  he  could  devise,  the  design  which  he 
placed  upon  the  title-page,  a  dolphin  and  an  anchor,  with 
the  words  "  Aldi  discip.  Anglus,"  was  an  expression  at 
once  of  pride  and  of  obligation.  He  had  gone  back  to  Aldus 
for  his  model,  and  the  book  which  he  produced  was  in  all 
but  its  change  of  type  from  italic  to  roman  a  nearly  exact 
reproduction  of  the  form  which  Aldus  had  employed  so 
successfully  three  centuries  before.  Even  the  relative  thin- 
ness of  the  volumes  was  preserved  as  an  important  element 
of  their  attractiveness  to  eye  and  hand.  Whoever  would 
learn  what  an  enormous  difference  in  esthetic  effect  can  be 

[.3] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

produced  by  slight  differences  in  style  and  size,  especially  in 
thickness,  should  compare  the  Pickering  "Aldines"  with 
the  rival  set  of  British  Poets  published  by  Little  and  Brown. 
The  latter  series  is  a  noble  one,  often  showing  better  press- 
work  than  Pickering's,  and  it  was  deservedly  popular,  but  it 
is  many  degrees  removed  from  the  totality  of  esthetic  charm 
that  would  entitle  it  to  rank  as  a  favorite. 

We  said  that  Pickering  went  back  to  Aldus  for  his  model, 
but  he  did  not  travel  a  lonely  road.  The  book  size  in  ques- 
tion had  never  ceased  to  be  used,  and  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury it  was  in  full  favor.  The  writings  of  the  novelists  and 
essayists  found  ready  buyers  in  this  form,  as  witness,  among 
others,  the  Strahan  Fielding  of  1788,  the  Rivington  Idler  of 
the  same  year,  and  the  Rivington  Sterne  of  1788.  The  size 
of  the  printed  page  is  usually  larger,  but  that  of  the  Sterne 
corresponds  as  closely  to  that  of  the  two  "Aldines"  as  the 
difference  in  the  size  of  type  will  permit.  Pickering's  con- 
temporaries and  successors  in  the  publishing  field  recognized 
the  attractiveness  of  this  book  size,  and  the  works  of  the 
poets  generally  were  issued  in  this  form;  hence  we  have, 
for  example,  the  Longman  Southey,  the  Moxon  Words- 
worth, and  the  Murray  Grabbe.  The  latest  series  to  appeal 
for  popular  favor  by  the  use  of  this  book  form  is  Every- 
man's Library,  in  which,  though  much  has  been  sacrificed 
to  cheapness,  the  outward  proportions  of  the  volumes  are 
almost  identical  with  those  adopted  by  Aldus  and  Pickering. 

Go,  little  book,  whose  pages  hold 

Those  garnered  years  in  loving  trust ; 
How  long  before  your  blue  and  gold 

Shall  fade  and  whiten  in  the  dust? 

This  stanza  from  Dr.  Holmes's  introduction  to  his 
••Poems"  of  1862  may  well  be  claimed  by  the  Blue  and 
Gold  edition  of  the  poets  as  its  passport  to  the  recognition 

[34] 


FAVORITE  BOOK  SIZES 

of  future  generations.  But  it  will  need  no  passport ;  its  own 
enduring  charm  is  sufTicient.  The  volumes  of  this  dainty 
series,  while  larger  in  all  hut  thickness  than  the  "Elzevirs," 
yet  make  their  appeal  by  much  the  same  qualities,  compact- 
ness and  portability,  with  a  suggestion  of  the  Elzevirian 
plumpness.  To  the  attraction  of  the  size  is  added  the  con- 
trasted charm  of  the  blue  cover  and  the  gilt  stamp  and 
edges.  That  a  Blue  and  Gold  edition,  in  the  absence  of  its 
name  qualities,  becomes  something  far  inferior  may  be  seen 
from  a  copy  that  has  lost  them  in  rebinding.  In  spite  of  the 
hardness  of  their  blue  and  the  crudeness  of  their  stamped 
designs,  these  little  volumes  attract  every  reader  and  never 
remain  long  on  the  shelves  of  the  second-hand  bookstores. 
We  should  not  expect  a  publisher  to  succeed  were  he  now 
to  put  them  upon  the  market  for  the  first  time  or  in  an  exact 
reproduction.  But  the  publisher  who  shall  so  recombine 
their  elements  as  to  produce  upon  his  public  the  effect  which 
they  made  upon  theirs,  and  which  they  still  make  as  remi- 
niscent of  an  earlier  taste,  will  be  the  envy  of  his  fellows. 
It  is  interesting  to  note  that  after  fifty  years  these  volumes 
show  no  sign  of  fading,  so  that  Dr.  Holmes  might  well  have 
made  his  stanza  an  exclamation  instead  of  a  question.  They 
seem  likely  to  last  as  long  as  the  "Elzevirs"  or  even  the 
"Alduses"  have  already  lasted,  and  possibly  to  outlast  the 
fame,  though  hardly  the  memory,  of  the  poet  who  sang 
them.  The  dimensions  of  the  cover  are  5f  by  3|  inches; 
the  thickness  is  about  an  inch.  There  was  a  larger  Blue  and 
Gold  format,  as  well  as  several  smaller,  but  only  the  stand- 
ard is  now  valued. 

We  cannot  bring  our  list  of  favorite  book  sizes  much 
nearer  the  present  without  running  the  risk  of  confusing  the 
temporary  and  the  permanent  in  popular  approval.  We  will, 
therefore,  close  with  a  mention  of  the  Little  Classics.    At 

[20] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

about  the  time  when  the  Blue  and  Gold  series  ceased  to  be 
published,  more  exactly  in  1874,  Mr.  Rossiter  Johnson  de- 
signed for  the  now  famous  series  which  he  was  then  editing 
a  book  form  that  sprang  at  once  into  a  favor  that  it  still  re- 
tains. In  this  form,  which  appears  to  have  no  near  counter- 
part in  either  earlier  or  later  bookmaking,  the  volumes  are 
closely  six  by  four  inches  by  three-quarters  of  an  inch  in 
thickness.  The  edges  are  colored  red,  whatever  the  color 
of  the  sides.  The  printed  page  is  relatively  wide,  and  the 
whole  etfect  of  the  book  is  that  of  a  tiny  quarto,  though  in 
reality  the  dimensions  are  those  of  a  rather  small  sixteenmo 
of  normal  proportions.  Thus  the  volume  produces  upon 
the  eye  the  charm  of  daintiness,  while  the  page  contains  a 
sufficient  amount  of  matter  to  make  the  volume  profitable 
to  the  purchaser. 

This  series  naturally  suggests  comparison  with  the  Tauch- 
nitz  editions,  which  consist  of  volumes  only  slightly  larger. 
But  really  no  comparison  is  possible.  The  Tauchnitz  edi- 
tions are  merely  convenient  carriers  of  letterpress.  The  Little 
Classics  are  a  genuine  art  product.  That  the  latter  book  size 
has  not  been  more  widely  used  than  it  has,  by  its  own  and 
by  other  publishers,  is  perhaps  due  to  commercial  reasons. 
But  there  can  be  no  question  of  the  esthetic  appeal  which  it 
makes  upon  the  reader  who  is  looking  for  compactness  and 
beauty  rather  than  for  the  greatest  bulk  for  his  money. 
With  the  modern  demand  for  the  saving  of  space  in  private 
libraries  we  may  reasonably  look  for  a  revival  of  this  con- 
densed and  charming  book  size. 

The  adoption  of  a  few  standard  sizes  for  all  books  was 
urged  some  years  ago  at  a  meeting  of  American  librarians. 
Commenting  on  this  proposal,  a  New  York  publisher  re- 
marked that  he  should  be  glad  to  have  such  standard  sizes 
adopted  by  others,  but  he  should  take  pains  to  avoid  them 

[.6] 


FAVORITE  BOOK  SIZES 

in  his  own  publications  in  order  to  gain  the  distinction  of 
dillbrence.  The  discussion  stopped  suddenly  under  the  im 
pact  of  this  unexpected  assault.  But  a  second  thought  shows 
that  the  puhhsher's  comment  leaves  the  question  still  open. 
It  is  obvious  that  if  we  were  to  adopt  standard  sizes  based 
upon  nothing  more  fundamental  than  the  librarian's  desire 
for  uniformity  or  the  printer's  mechanical  convenience,  with- 
out regard  to  the  tastes  and  preferences  of  the  reader,  who  is 
the  final  judge,  the  publisher  might  well  find  his  gain  in 
disregarding  them.  But  if  the  standards  adopted  all  repre- 
sented sizes  long  tested  and  approved  by  popular  favor,  the 
publisher  who  should  avoid  them  would  display  a  confidence 
in  the  Spirit  of  the  Perverse  as  sublime  as  it  would  be  hazard- 
ous. Fortunately  no  formal  standardization  of  book  sizes  is 
likely  to  be  attempted.  But,  keenly  as  a  publisher  would 
resent  any  limitation  upon  his  freedom  in  book  design,  he 
is  just  as  keenly  desirous  that  his  books  shall  be  favorites. 
To  attain  his  coveted  end  he  has  two  resources,  experience 
and  experiment,  or  a  mixture  of  both.  While  the  book  sizes 
that  have  been  discussed  in  this  chapter  do  not  include  all 
the  favorites,  they  certainly  include  some  of  the  first  favor- 
ites, and  are  worthy  of  study  by  everyone  who  is  seeking 
public  favor  in  the  design  of  that  complex  art  product  known 
as  a  Book. 


[^7] 


THE  VALUE  OF  READING,  TO  THE 
PUBLIC  AND  TO  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


F  what  value  is  it  to  a  community  to  con- 
tain— still  more  to  be  composed  of — well- 
read  people?  We  can  best  answer  this 
question  by  picturing  its  opposite,  a  com- 
munity without  readers ;  this  we  are  un- 
JC  fortunately  able  to  do  without  drawing 
upon  our  imaginations,  for  we  have  only  to  turn  to  certain 
districts  of  countries  like  Spain  or  Russia.  There  we  shall 
meet  whole  communities,  large  enough  to  form  cities  else- 
where, which  are  little  more  than  aggregations  of  paupers. 
Shall  we  find  in  any  of  these  homes  a  daily  or  a  weekly 
paper,  or  a  monthly  magazine,  or  even  a  stray  book?  Not 
one,  except  perhaps  in  the  house  of  a  priest.  These  masses 
of  people  live  on  the  earth,  to  be  sure,  but  they  do  not  live 
in  the  world.  No  currents  of  the  great,  splendid  life  of  the 
twentieth  century  ever  reach  them;  and  they  live  in  equal 
isolation  from  the  life  of  the  past.  "The  glory  that  was 
Greece  and  the  grandeur  that  was  Rome"  have  for  them 
simply  no  existence.  They  are  truly  the  disinherited  of  all 
the  ages.  Though  they  may  not  be  unhappy,  they  can  be 
called  nothing  less  than  wretched.  Is  the  fault  one  of  race, 
or  government,  or  religion  ?  Much  could  be  said  on  all  these 
points,  both  for  and  against;  but  one  fact  remains  indisput- 
able— these  people  do  not  read. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  a  different  type  of  community,  that 
represented  by  the    ordinary  New  England  village.      How 

[28] 


THE  VALUE  OF  READING 

stands  the  cause  of  reading  there?  If  there  is  any  person 
of  sound  mind  in  the  community  who  has  never  learned  to 
read,  he  is  pointed  out  as  a  curiosity.  There  is  not  a  home 
in  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  town  that  is  without  its 
paper,  its  magazine,  or  its  books.  In  other  words,  literacy 
is  taken  for  granted.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  in  progress, 
wealth,  and  influence  the  one  community  starts  where  the 
other  leaves  off?  In  the  illiterate  towns  just  described  there 
is  often  no  man  who  has  the  slightest  capacity  for  business 
or  who  can  represent  the  interests  of  his  community  before 
even  the  humblest  government  official.  But  from  towns  of 
the  other  type  come  men  who  represent  with  honor  their 
state  and  their  nation ;  men  who  widen  the  bounds  of  freedom 
and  who  add  new  stars  to  the  celestial  sphere  of  knowledge. 
Is  all  this  wholly  a  matter  of  reading?  One  would  not  dare 
to  assert  it  absolutely,  remembering  the  advantages  of  race, 
government,  and  religion  enjoyed  in  New  England.  And  yet 
we  have  only  to  fancy  the  condition  of  even  such  a  town 
after  one  generation,  supposing  all  its  printed  matter  and 
its  power  to  read  were  taken  away,  if  we  would  realize 
what  an  impulse  to  progress  and  prosperity  is  given  by  the 
presence  of  the  volumes  that  line  the  shelves  of  our  public 
libraries. 

If  the  fortunes  of  a  community  in  the  modern  world  are 
bound  up  with  the  use  that  it  makes  of  books  and  libraries, 
no  less  are  those  of  the  individual.  This  is  true  whether  we 
refer  to  his  private  satisfaction  or  to  his  public  advancement. 
The  animal  is  endowed  with  instinct,  which  is  sufficient  for 
the  guidance  of  his  life,  but  it  permits  of  no  development. 
Man  must  depend  upon  judgment,  experience,  reason  — 
guides  that  are  often  only  too  blind ;  but  at  least  they  admit 
of  progress.  In  fact  it  is  only  in  the  field  of  knowledge  that 
human  progress  appears  to  be  possible.    We  have  no  better 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

bodies  than  the  ancient  Greeks  had — to  put  the  case  very 
mildly.  We  have  no  better  minds  than  they  had — to  make 
an  even  safer  assertion.  But  we  know  almost  infinitely  more 
than  they  did.  In  this  respect  the  ancient  Greeks  were  but 
as  children  compared  with  ourselves.  What  makes  this  tre- 
mendous difference?  Simply  the  fact  that  we  know  all  that 
was  known  by  them  and  the  Romans  and  the  men  of  the 
middle  ages,  and  through  this  knowledge  we  have  learned 
more  by  our  own  discovery  than  they  knew,  all  put  together. 
The  path  to  success  for  men  and  races  lies  through  the  store- 
house where  this  vast  knowledge  is  garnered — the  library. 
But  it  is  something  more  than  a  storehouse  of  knowledge ;  it 
is  an  electrical  battery  of  power.  This  knowledge,  this  power, 
can  be  obtained  in  its  fullness  only  through  books.  The 
man,  therefore,  who  aspires  to  lead  his  fellows,  to  command 
their  respect  or  their  votes,  must  not  rely  on  native  talent 
alone ;  he  must  add  to  it  the  stored-up  talent  of  the  ages 

There  is  an  old  proverb:  "No  man  ever  got  rich  with  his 
coat  off."  This  is  a  puzzling  assertion,  for  it  seems  to  con- 
tradict so  many  accepted  ideas.  General  Grant,  for  instance, 
when  asked  for  his  coat-of-arms,  replied:  "A  pair  of  shirt 
sleeves."  The  answer  showed  an  honorable  pride  in  labor; 
but  we  must  remember  that  it  was  not  General  Grant's  arms 
but  his  brain  that  won  his  victories.  Does  not  our  proverb 
mean  simply  this:  that  the  great  prizes  of  life — of  which 
riches  is  the  symbol,  not  the  snm — cannot  be  won  by  main 
strength  and  ignorance;  that  they  can  be  won  only  by  energy 
making  use  of  knowledge  ?  But  it  is  not  only  in  the  public 
successes  of  life  that  books  have  a  value  for  the  individual. 
Public  successes  are  never  the  greatest  that  men  win.  It  is 
in  the  expansion  and  uplift  of  the  inner  self  that  books  ren- 
der their  grandest  service.  Emily  Dickinson  wrote  of  such  a 
reader : 

[3o] 


THE  VALUE  OF  READING 

He  ate  and  drank  iho  precious  words, 

His  spirit  grew  robust ; 
He  knew  no  more  that  he  was  poor, 

Nor  that  his  frame  was  dust. 
He  danced  along  the  dingy  days. 

And  this  bequest  of  wings 
Was  but  a  book      What  liberty 

A  loosened  spirit  brings  I 

A  final  word  on  values.  Th6  philosophers  make  two 
great  classes  of  values,  which  may  be  entitled  respectively 
Property  and  Possessions.  Under  Property  come  money, 
houses,  lands,  carriages,  clothing,  jewels;  under  Posses- 
sions come  love,  friendship,  morality,  knowledge,  culture, 
refinement.  All  are  good  things.  There  never  were  any 
houses  or  carriages  or  clothes  too  good  for  a  human  being. 
But  these  obviously  belong  to  a  dilTerent  type  of  values  from 
the  other  group — to  a  lower  type.  What  is  the  test,  the 
touchstone,  by  which  we  can  tell  to  which  class  any  value  be- 
longs? We  shall  find  the  test  clearly  stated  in  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount.  Is  the  treasure  in  question  one  that  moth  and 
rust  can  corrupt  or  that  thieves  can  break  through  and  steal? 
If  so,  it  belongs  to  the  lower  class,  to  Property.  But  if  it  is 
one  that  cannot  be  taken  away,  then  it  is  a  Possession  and 
belongs  to  the  higher  type.  There  is  another  test,  which  is 
really  a  part  of  this :  Can  you  share  it  without  loss  ?  If  I 
own  a  farm,  and  give  to  another  a  half  of  it  or  a  year's  crop 
from  it,  I  deprive  myself  of  just  so  much.  But,  if  I  have 
knowledge  or  taste  or  judgment  or  affection,  I  can  pour  them 
all  out  like  water  for  the  benefit  of  my  fellows,  and  yet 
never  have  any  the  less.  On  the  contrary,  I  shall  find  that 
I  have  more  ;  for  they  grow  by  sharing.  But  we  have  not  yet 
done  with  the  superiority  of  Possessions  over  Property. 
"  Shrouds  have  no  pockets,"  says  the  grim  old  proverb;  and 
all  Property  must  be  laid  down  at  the  edge  of  the  grave. 
But  if  man  be  immortal,  as  the  wise  in  all  ages  have  be- 

[3.] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

lieved,  then  we  do  not  have  to  lay  down  our  Possessions 
with  this  mortal  body.  For,  if  the  soul  when  freed  from  the 
flesh  is  to  remain  the  soul,  the  self — and  only  so  can  im- 
mortality have  any  meaning — then  it  must  keep  all  those 
inner  acquisitions  of  knowledge,  culture,  and  character  which 
it  has  gathered  on  earth;  nay,  it  then  for  the  first  time  truly 
comes  into  the  enjoyment  of  them.  What  were  our  earthly 
Possessions  become  Treasures  laid  up  for  ourselves  in 
Heaven. 


[32] 


THE  BOOK  OF  TO-DAY  AND  THE  BOOK 
OF  TO-MORROW 


HE  book  of  to-daj  is  not  necessarily  the 
cm^A  m  JkM^  J  parent  of  the  book  of  to-morrow ,  j  ust  as  it  is 
r^il  @  flr  ®  X^  itself  not  necessarily  the  child  of  the  book  of 
yesterday.  The  relation  is  apt  to  be  one  of 
succession  and  influence  rather  than  any- 
thing suggesting  biological  evolution.  Na- 
ture, according  to  Linnaeus's  famous  maxim,  never  goes  by 
leaps,  but  the  book  is  a  human  product,  and  human  nature 
takes  its  chief  pride  in  its  leaps,  calling  them  inventions  and 
discoveries.  Such  a  leap  in  book  production  was  the  substi- 
tution of  parchment  for  papyrus,  of  paper  for  parchment, 
of  mechanical  for  manual  processes  when  writing  was  dis- 
placed by  typography,  of  higher  for  lower  mechanism  in  the 
creation  of  the  power  perfecting  press.  These  inventions 
had  behind  them,  to  be  sure,  the  impetus  of  economic  de- 
mand, but  no  such  partial  explanation  can  be  given  for  the 
advent  of  William  Morris  among  the  printers  of  the  late 
nineteenth  century,  unless  an  unrecognized  artistic  need  niay 
be  said  to  constitute  an  economic  demand. 

The  book  of  to-day  in  its  best  examples  resembles  not  so 
much  the  book  of  yesterday  as  that  of  some  earlier  days,  and 
we  may  count  this  fact  a  fortunate  one,  since  it  relegates  to 
oblivion  the  books  made  in  certain  inartistic  periods,  notably 
of  the  one  preceding  the  present  revival.  It  is  rather  the  best 
of  the  whole  past  of  the  book,  and  not  the  book  of  to-day 
alone,  that  influences  the  character  to  be  taken  by  the  book 

[33] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

of  to-morrow.  This  element  is  a  historical  one  and  a  knowl- 
edge of  it  may  be  acquired  by  study ;  it  is  the  possible  in- 
ventions that  baffle  our  prophecies.  We  know  that  any  time 
some  new  process  may  be  discovered  that  will  transform  the 
book  into  something  as  unlike  its  present  character  as  that 
is  unlike  the  papyrus  roll.  But  because  the  element  of  inven- 
tion is  so  uncertain  we  can  only  recognize  it,  we  cannot  take 
it  into  account.  Our  advantage  in  considering  the  book  of 
to-day  in  connection  with  the  book  of  to-morrow  will  be 
chiefly  a  negative  one,  in  making  the  book  as  it  is,  so  far  as 
we  find  it  defective,  our  point  of  departure  in  seeking  the 
book  as  it  ought  to  be. 

To-day,  for  our  present  purposes,  may  be  taken  as  begin- 
ning with  the  great  work  of  Morris.  But  its  book  includes 
the  worst  as  well  as  the  best.  It  is  not  only  the  book  by  which 
we  in  our  jealousy  for  the  reputation  of  our  age  should  like 
to  have  our  age  remembered,  but  also  the  more  frequent 
book  that  we  have  to  see  and  handle,  however  much  against 
our  will,  and  sometimes  even  to  buy.  We  may  congratulate 
ourselves  that  this  book  will  perish  by  its  own  defects,  leav- 
ing after  all  only  the  best  book  to  be  associated  with  our  age; 
but  this  does  not  alter  the  fact  that  in  the  present  the  unde- 
sirable book  is  too  much  with  us,  is  vastly  in  the  majority, 
is,  in  fact,  the  only  book  that  the  great  mass  of  our  contem- 
poraries know.  How  bad  it  is  most  book  buyers  do  not  real- 
ize ;  if  they  did,  a  better  book  would  speedily  take  its  place. 
But,  until  they  do,  our  only  chance  of  relief  is  the  doubtful 
one  of  an  invention  that  shall  make  good  books  cheaper  to 
make  than  poor  ones,  or  the  diflicult  one  of  educating  the 
public  in  the  knowledge  of  what  a  book  should  be.  The 
latter  is  obviously  our  only  rational  hope ;  but  before  we  turn 
to  consider  it,  let  us  first  look  at  the  book  of  to-day  to  see 
exactly  what  it  is. 

[34] 


THE  BOOK  OF  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

The  book  of  to-day  is  first  of  all  a  novel.  It  has  other 
forms,  to  be  sure, — poetry,  essays,  history,  travels,  works 
of  science  and  art, — but  these  do  not  meet  the  eye  of  the 
multitude.  We  may  disregard  them  for  the  moment,  and,  in 
reply  to  the  question,  What  is  the  book  of  to-day?  vv^e  may 
say:  It  is  a  one-volume  novel,  a  rather  clumsy  duodecimo, 
w^ith  a  showy  cover  adorned  with  a  colored  picture  of  the 
heroine.  It  is  printed  on  thick  paper  of  poor  quality,  with 
type  too  large  for  the  page,  and  ugly  margins  equal  all 
around.  Its  binding  is  weak,  often  good  for  only  a  dozen 
readings,  though  quite  as  lasting  as  the  paper  deserves.  For 
merits  it  can  usually  offer  clear  type,  black  ink,  and  good 
presswork.  But  its  great  fault  is  that  in  addressing  the  buyer 
it  appeals  to  the  primitive  instinct  for  bigness  rather  than  to 
the  higher  sense  that  regards  quality.  Such  is  the  book  of 
to-day,  emphatically  what  Franklin  over  a  hundred  years 
ago  called  a  "blown"  book. 

But  though  the  novel  fills  the  multitude's  field  of  vision, 
it  is  after  all  not  the  only  contemporary  book ;  there  are 
others  from  which  we  niay  be  able  to  choose  one  worthier 
to  be  the  book  of  to-day  than  the  self-elected  novel.  But 
we  shall  not  find  it  where  commercialism  is  rife.  In  the 
presence  of  that  element  we  find  still  only  an  appeal  to  the 
many — which,  if  successful,  means  large  profits — by  an 
appearance  of  giving  much  while  really  giving  little.  In  this 
game  of  illusion  the  sound  principles  of  bookmaking  are  for- 
saken. Books  are  not  designed  on  the  basis  of  what  they 
are,  but  on  the  basis  of  what  they  can  be  made  to  seem. 
The  result  is  puffery,  not  merely  in  advertising,  but  still 
earlier  in  the  dimensions  of  the  book  itself — the  most  mod- 
ern and  profitable  instance  of  using  the  east  wind  for  a 
filler. 

But  at  this  point  a  new  element  is  introduced,  the  public 

[35] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

library.  The  ordinary  buyer  carries  home  the  distended 
book,  and  after  he  and  his  family  have  read  it,  he  cares  not 
if  it  falls  to  pieces  after  the  next  reading.  Neither  does  he 
care  if  it  takes  up  thrice  the  room  that  it  should,  for  he  no 
longer  gives  it  room.  But  the  public  library,  under  the  ex- 
isting inflationism,  must  not  only  pay  too  much  for  its  popu- 
lar books ;  it  must  also  house  them  at  a  needless  outlay, 
and  must  very  early  duplicate  a  serious  percentage  of  their 
first  cost  in  rebinding  them.  So  burdensome  has  this  last 
item  become  that  our  libraries  are  consenting  to  pay  a  slightly 
larger  first  cost  in  order  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  rebinding ; 
and  enterprising  publishers,  following  the  lead  of  a  more 
enterprising  bookbinder,  are  beginning  to  cater  to  this  library 
demand,  which  some  day,  let  us  hope,  may  dominate  the 
entire  publishing  vv^orld  for  all  books  worth  preserving,  and 
may  extend  to  all  the  elements  of  the  book. 
/  But  fortunately  there  is  here  and  there  the  uncommercial 
publisher  and  now  and  then  an  uncommercial  mood  in  the 
ordinary  publisher.  To  these  we  owe  a  small  but  important 
body  of  work  of  which  no  previous  age  need  have  been 
ashamed.  Of  these  books  we  may  almost  say  that  they 
would  be  books  if  there  were  nothing  in  them.  They  have 
come  into  being  by  a  happy  conjunction  of  qualified  pub- 
lisher and  appreciative  buyers.  They  show  what  most  books 
may  be  and  what  all  books  will  strive  to  be  if  ever  the  ma- 
jority of  book  buyers  come  to  know  what  a  good  book  isy- 
This  brings  us  finally  to  the  book  of  to-morrow,  what  we 
hope  it  will  be  and  how  we  can  make  it  so. 

The  book  of  to-morrow,  the  book  as  it  ought  to  be,  will 
be  both  better  and  cheaper  than  the  book  of  to-day.  It  can 
aflbrd  to  be  cheaper,  for  it  will  have  a  large  and  appreciative 
public,  and  for  the  same  reason  it  will  have  to  be  better. 
The  question  of  supreme  importance  now,  if  this  public  is 

[36] 


THE  BOOK  OF  TO-DAY  AND  TO-MORROW 

ever  to  exist,  is:  How  to  educate  our  book  buyers.  The  an- 
swer is  not  easy,  for  our  book  buyers  do  not  realize  that 
they  are  untrained,  and,  even  if  they  realized  it,  the  task  of 
training  them  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  the  well-made 
book  would  be  difficult.  But  we  can  do  at  least  three  things: 
agitate — proclaim  the  existence  of  a  lore  to  be  acquired,  an 
ignorance  and  its  practices  to  be  eschewed ;  illustrate — show 
the  good  book  and  the  bad  together,  and  set  forth,  point  by 
point,  why  the  good  is  superior ;  last  and  most  important,  we 
must  vindicate — back  up  our  words  by  our  deeds,  support 
the  publisher  who  gives  the  world  good  books,  and  leave  to 
starvation  or  reform  the  publisher  who  clings  to  the  old  un- 
worthy methods  of  incapacity  or  fraud.  Even  now,  if  every 
enlightened  booklover  in  America  would  carry  out  this  plan 
as  a  matter  of  duty  merely  where  he  could  do  so  without  in- 
convenience, nothing  less  than  a  revolution  would  be  upon 
us,  and  we  should  have  the  Book  of  To-morrow  while  it  is 
still  To-day. 


[37] 


A  CONSTRUCTIVE  CRITIC  OF  THE  BOOK 


T  the  meeting  of  the  British  librarians  at 
Cambridge  in  1 882  a  bomb  was  thrown  into 
the  camp  of  the  book  producers  in  the  form 
of  the  question :  Who  spoils  our  new  Eng- 
lish books?  In  the  explosion  which  fol- 
lowed, everybody  within  range  was  hit, 
from  "the  uncritical  consumer"  to  "the  untrained  manu- 
facturer." This  dangerous  question  was  asked  and  an- 
swered by  Henry  Stevens  of  Vermont,  who,  as  a  London 
bookseller,  had  for  nearly  forty  years  handled  the  products 
of  the  press  new  and  old,  had  numbered  among  his  patrons 
such  critical  booklovers  as  John  Carter  Brown  and  James 
Lenox,  and  had  been  honored  with  the  personal  friendship  of 
William  Pickering  the  publisher  and  Charles  Whittingham 
the  printer.  He  had  therefore  enjoyed  abundant  opportu- 
nity for  qualifying  himself  to  know  whereof  he  spoke.  If  his 
words  were  severe,  he  stood  ready  to  justify  them  with  an 
exhibit  of  sixty  contemporary  books  which  he  set  before  his 
hearers.^ 

The  truth  is,  however  unwilling  his  victims  may  have 
been  to  admit  it,  that  his  attack  was  only  too  well  timed. 
The  men  of  creative  power,  who  had  ennobled  English  book 
production  during  the  second  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 

i  The  address  here  summarized  was  printed  at  the  Chiswick  Press  and  published  at 
Christmas,  i88:i.  Mr.  Stevens  died  early  in  1886,  leaving  a  posthumous  book  entitled 
"  Rocollections  of  Mr.  James  Lenox,"  which  was  printed  in  the  same  year  at  the  Chis- 
wick Press,  and  which  is  of  great  interest  to  booklovers,  especially  AinericaDS. 

[38] 


A  CONSTRUCTIVE  CRITIC  OF  THE  BOOK 

tury,  had  passed  away,  and  books  were  being  thrown  to- 
gether instead  of  being  designed  as  formerly.  The  tradition 
of  excellence  in  English  bookmaking  still  held  sway  over 
the  public,  and,  as  their  books  sold,  most  producers  saw  no 
reason  to  disturb  themselves.  What  to  them  was  progress 
in  other  lands,  or  the  claims  of  a  future  that  could  not  be 
enforced?  But  after  Mr.  Stevens's  attack  they  could  at  least 
no  longer  plead  ignorance  of  their  faults.  It  is  certain  that 
an  improvement  soon  began,  which  culminated  in  the  pres- 
ent great  era  of  book  design  throughout  the  English  world. 
If  the  famous  bookseller's  address  were  not  the  cause  of  the 
change,  it  at  least  marked  a  turning  point,  and  it  deserves 
to  be  studied  as  one  of  the  historic  documents  of  modern 
printing.  It  is  more  than  this,  however;  it  is  a  piece  of  crea- 
tive criticism,  and  though  teaching  not  by  example  but  by 
contraries,  it  forms  one  of  the  best  existing  brief  compends 
of  what  a  well-made  book  must  be. 

The  critic  of  books  as  they  were  made  a  generation  ago 
begins  with  the  assertion  of  a  truth  that  cannot  be  too 
often  repeated :  ' '  The  manufacture  of  a  beautiful  and  dur- 
able book  costs  little  if  anything  more  than  that  of  a  clumsy 
and  unsightly  one."  He  adds  that  once  a  handsome  book 
and  a  new  English  book  were  synonymous  terms,  but  that 
now  the  production  of  really  fine  books  is  becoming  one  of 
England's  lost  arts.  He  indulges  in  a  fling  at  ' '  the  efforts  of 
certain  recent  printers  to  retrieve  this  decadence  by  throwing 
on  to  the  already  overburdened  trade  several  big,  heavy,  and 
voluminous  works  of  standard  authors  termed  'editions  de 
luxe.'  "  He  assures  his  hearers  that  his  judgments  were  not 
formed  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  but  were  based  partly 
on  long  personal  observations — Stevens  was  the  author  of 
that  widely  influential  piece  of  selective  bibliography,  "My 
English  Library,"  London,  i853 — and  on  the  results  of  the 

[39] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

international  exhibitions  since  i85i,  especially  those  of 
Vienna  (187/i),  Philadelphia  (1876),  and  Paris  (1878),  in 
the  last  of  which  he  was  a  juror.  His  conclusion  is  "that 
the  present  new  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  books,  of  a  given 
size  and  price,  are  not  of  the  average  quality  of  high  art  and 
skill  in  manufacture  that  is  found  in  some  other  countries." 
He  reminds  his  hearers  that  "  it  is  no  excuse  to  say  that  the 
rapidity  of  production  has  been  largely  increased.  That 
amounts  merely  to  confessing  that  we  are  now  consuming 
two  bad  books  in  the  place  of  one  good  one." 

Mr.  Stevens  now  comes  to  the  direct  question :  Who 
spoils  our  new  English  books?  He  answers  it  by  naming 
not  less  than  ten  parties  concerned:  (i)  the  author,  (2)  the 
publisher,  (3)  the  printer,  (^)  the  reader,  (5)  the  composi- 
tor, (6)  the  pressman  or  machinist,  (7)  the  papermaker, 
(8)  the  ink  maker,  (9)  the  bookbinder,  and  (10),  last  but 
not  least,  the  consumer.  There  is  no  question  of  honesty  or 
dishonesty,  he  says,  but  there  is  a  painful  lack  of  harmony, 
the  bungling  work  of  one  or  the  clumsy  manipulation  of 
another  often  defeating  the  combined  excellence  of  all  the 
rest.  The  cure  he  foresees  in  the  establishment  of  a  school 
of  typography,  in  which  every  disciple  of  these  ten  tribes 
shall  study  a  recognized  grammar  of  book  manufacture 
based  on  the  authority  of  the  best  examples. 

He  now  returns  to  the  charge  and  pays  his  respects  to 
each  member  of  the  "ten  tribes"  in  turn.  The  author's 
offense  is  found  to  consist  largely  of  ignorant  meddling. 
The  publisher  is  too  often  ignorant,  fussy,  unskilled,  pedan- 
tic, shiftless,  and  money-seeking,  willing  to  make  books 
unsightly  if  their  cheapness  will  sell  them.  The  printer  is 
the  scapegoat,  and  many  books  are  spoiled  in  spite  of  his 
efforts,  while  he  gets  all  the  blame.  But  he  is  apt  to  have 
faults  of  his  own,  the  worst  of  which  is  a  failure  in  the  care- 

[4o] 


A  CONSTRUCTIVE  CRITIC  OF  THE  BOOK 

ful  design  of  the  books  intrusted  to  him.  "  It  was  not  so," 
says  Mr.  Stevens, ' '  with  our  good  old  friends  WiUiam  Picker- 
ing and  Charles  Whittingham,  publisher  and  printer,  work- 
ing for  many  years  harmoniously  together.  It  was  their 
custom,  as  both  used  repeatedly  to  tell  us,  to  each  first  sit  upon 
every  new  book  and  painfully  hammer  out  in  his  own  mind 
its  ideal  form  and  proportions.  Then  two  Sundays  at  least 
were  required  to  compare  notes  in  the  little  summer  house 
in  Mr,  Whittingham's  garden  at  Chiswick,  or  in  the  after- 
dinner  sanctuary,  to  settle  the  shape  and  dress  of  their 
forthcoming  'friend  of  man.'  It  was  amusing  as  well  as 
instructive  to  see  each  of  them,  when  they  met,  pull  from 
his  bulging  side  pocket  vv^ell-worn  title-pages  and  sample 
leaves  for  discussion  and  consideration.  When  they  agreed, 
perfection  was  at  hand,  and  the  'copy'  went  forward  to  the 
compositors,  but  not  till  then.  The  results,  to  this  day,  are 
seen  in  all  the  books  bearing  the  imprint  of  William  Picker- 
ing, nearly  all  of  which  bear  also  evidence  that  they  came 
from  the  'Chiswick  Press.'  " 

The  reader,  Mr.  Stevens  holds  to  be,  under  the  printer, 
the  real  man  of  responsibility ;  but  he  too  is  often  hampered 
by  want  of  plan  and  due  knowledge  of  the  proportions  of 
the  book  that  he  is  handling.  He  also  should  go  to  the 
school  of  typography,  and  the  readers  of  different  offices 
should  learn  to  agree.  The  compositor  is  pronounced  "a 
little  person  of  great  consequence . ' '  His  moral  responsibility 
is  not  great,  but  too  much  is  often  thrust  upon  him  ;  in 
fact  he  is,  in  many  cases,  the  real  maker  of  the  book.  "  He 
ought  to  have  a  chance  at  the  school  of  typography,  and  be 
better  instructed  in  his  own  business,  and  be  taught  not  to 
assume  the  business  of  any  other  sinner  joined  with  him  in 
the  manufacture  of  books."  Between  the  compositor  and  the 
pressman  is  a  long  road  in  which  many  a  book  is  spoiled, 

[4.] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

but  the  responsibility  is  hard  to  place.  Few  people  have  any 
idea  what  constitute  the  essentials  of  a  book's  form  and  pro- 
portions. Yet  our  old  standards,  in  manuscript  and  print, 
demand  ' '  that  the  length  of  a  printed  page  should  have  rela- 
tion to  its  width,  and  that  the  top  should  not  exceed  half  the 
bottom  margin,  and  that  the  front  should  be  double  the  back 
margin." 

The  papermaker  comes  in  for  a  large  share  of  blame,  but 
the  remedy  lies  only  in  the  hands  of  the  consumer,  who 
must  insist  on  receiving  good  and  durable  paper.  ' '  The  ink- 
maker  is  a  sinner  of  the  first  magnitude."  The  first  printing 
inks  are  still  bright,  clean,  and  beautiful  after  four  hundred 
years ;  but  who  will  give  any  such  warrant  to  even  the  best 
inks  of  the  present  day?  Mr.  Stevens  pronounces  the  sallow 
inks  of  our  day  as  offensive  to  sight  as  they  are  to  smell. 
The  bookbinder  is  adjudged  equal  in  mischief  to  any  other 
of  the  ten  sinners,  and  the  rest  are  called  upon  to  combine 
to  prevent  their  books  from  being  spoiled  in  these  last 
hands. 

The  consumer,  after  all,  is  the  person  most  to  blame,  for 
he  has  the  power  to  control  all  the  rest.  Or,  in  the  critic's 
closing  words :  ' '  Many  of  our  new  books  are  unnecessarily 
spoiled,  and  it  matters  little  whether  this  or  that  fault  be  laid 
to  this  or  that  sinner.  The  publisher,  the  printer,  or  the 
binder  may  sometimes,  nay,  often  does,  if  he  can,  shift  the 
burden  of  his  sins  to  the  shoulders  of  his  neighbor,  but  all 
the  faults  finally  will  come  back  on  the  consumer  if  he 
tolerates  this  adulteration  longer." 

The  great  constructive  feature  of  Mr.  Stevens's  address, 
which  is  one  that  brings  it  absolutely  up  to  date,  is  his  call 
for  a  school  of  typography,  which  shall  teach  a  recognized 
grammar  of  book  manufacture,  especially  printing,  a  gram- 
mar as  standard  as  Lindley  Murray's.    He  believes  that  the 

[4.] 


A  CONSTRUCTIVE  CRITIC  OF  THE  BOOK 

art  of  bookmaking  cannot  be  bcld  to  the  practice  of  the  laws 
of  proportion,  taste,  and  workmanship,  which  were  settled 
once  for  all  in  the  age  of  the  scribes  and  the  first  printers,  with- 
out the  existence  and  pressure  of  some  recognized  authority. 
Such  an  authority,  he  holds,  would  be  furnished  by  a  school 
of  typography.  This,  as  we  interpret  it,  would  be  not  neces- 
sarily a  school  for  journeymen,  but  a  school  for  those  who 
are  to  assume  the  responsibility  too  often  thrown  upon  the 
journeymen,  the  masters  of  book  production.  With  a  large 
annual  output  of  books  taken  up  by  a  public  none  too 
deeply  versed  in  the  constituents  of  a  well-made  book,  there 
would  seem  to  be  much  hope  for  printing  as  an  art  from  the 
existence  of  such  an  institution,  which  would  be  critical  in 
the  interest  of  sound  construction,  and  one  might  well  wish 
that  the  course  in  printing  recently  established  at  Harvard 
might  at  some  time  be  associated  with  the  name  of  its  prophet 
of  a  generation  ago,  Henry  Stevens  of  Vermont. 


[43] 


BOOKS  AS  A  LIBRARIAN  WOULD 
LIKE  THEM 


y^  I^>Cjr>^  'j^  HE  librarian  is  in  a  position  more  than  any 
one  else  to  know  the  disabilities  of  books. 
The  author  is  interested  in  his  fame  and 
his  emoluments,  the  publisher  in  his  repu- 
tation and  his  profits.  To  each  of  these 
parties  the  sales  are  the  chief  test.  But  the 
librarian's  interest  in  the  book  begins  after  the  sale,  and  it 
continues  through  the  entire  course  of  the  book's  natural 
life.  His  interest,  moreover,  is  all-round;  he  is  concerned 
with  the  book's  excellence  in  all  respects,  intellectual,  es- 
thetic, and  physical.  He  is  the  one  who  has  to  live  with  it, 
literally  to  keep  house  with  it;  and  his  reputation  is  in  a 
way  involved  with  its  character.  He  niay,  therefore,  be 
allowed  for  once  to  have  his  say  as  to  how  he  would  like  to 
have  books  made. 

If  a  book  is  worth  writing  at  all,  it  is  worth  writing  three 
times:  first  to  put  down  the  author's  ideas,  secondly  to  con- 
dense their  expression  into  the  smallest  possible  compass,  and 
thirdly  so  to  arrange  them  that  they  shall  be  most  easily 
taken  into  the  mind,  putting  them  not  necessarily  into  logi- 
cal order,  but  into  psychological  order.  If  the  author  will  do 
this  and  can  add  the  touch  of  genius,  or — shall  we  say? — 
can  suflPuse  his  work  with  the  quality  of  genius,  then  he  has 
made  an  addition  to  literature.  That,  among  all  the  books 
which  the  librarian  has  to  care  for,  he  finds  so  few  that  he 
can  call  additions  to  literature  is  one  of  his  grievances.    The 

[44] 


BOOKS  AS  A  LIBRARIAN  WOULD  LIKE  THEM 

three  processes  may,  indeed,  by  a  practiced  hand  be  per- 
formed as  one.  The  Hbrarian  is  only  anxious  that  they  be 
performed  and  that  he  have  the  benefit. 

With  the  pubHsher  the  Hbrarian  feels  that  he  can  speak 
still  more  bluntly  than  with  the  author,  for  it  is  against  the 
publisher  that  the  librarian  cherishes  one  of  his  greatest 
grievances,  the  necessity  of  supplying  four  times  the  amount 
of  storage  room  that  ought  to  be  required.  I  have  before 
me  two  books,  one  larger  than  the  other  in  every  way  and 
four  times  as  thick.  Yet  the  smaller  book  is  printed  in  larger 
type,  has  twice  as  many  words  on  a  page,  and  has  twice  as 
many  pages.  This  is,  of  course,  an  exceptional  contrast, 
but  a  difference  of  four  times  between  the  actual  and  the 
possible  is  by  no  means  unusual.  When  one  considers  that 
in  most  of  our  libraries  it  costs,  all  told,  a  dollar  to  shelve 
a  volume,  one  realizes  that  the  librarian  has  against  the 
publisher  a  grievance  that  can  be  put  into  the  language  of 
commerce.  If  every  book  is  occupying  a  dollar's  worth  of 
space,  which  ought  to  accommodate  three  others,  then,  gen- 
tlemen publishers,  in  swelling  your  books  to  catch  the  pub- 
lic eye,  you  have  taken  from  us  far  more  than  you  put  into 
your  own  pockets  from  your  sales  to  us.  You  have  made 
our  book  storage  four  times  as  costly  and  unwieldy  as  it 
ought  to  be;  but  you  have  done  worse  than  this,  you  have 
sold  us  perishable  instead  of  durable  goods.  You  have  cheap- 
ened every  element  of  the  book — paper,  ink,  and  binding  — 
so  that,  while  we  begin  the  twentieth  century  with  some 
books  on  our  shelves  that  are  over  four  hundred  years  old 
and  some  that  are  less  than  one,  the  only  books  among  them 
that  have  any  chance  of  seeing  the  twenty-first  century  are 
those  that  will  then  be  five  hundred  years  old ;  the  books 
that  might  have  been  a  century  old  will  then,  like  their 
makers,  be  dust.    It  seems  to  the  librarian  that  you,  who 

[45] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

have  taken  it  upon  yourselves  to  direct  the  service  to  be  ren- 
dered to  men  by  the   "art  preservative  of  all  arts,"  have 
assumed  very  lightly  your   responsibility  for   the   future's 
knowledge  of  our  time.    You  may  and  do  answer  that,  as 
the  records  begin  to  perish,  the  most  important  of  them  will 
be  reprinted,  and  the  world  will  be  the  better  off  for  the  loss 
of  the  rest.    To  this  it  may  be  rejoined  that  you  give  the  dis- 
tant future  no  chance  to  revise  the  judgments  of  a  rather 
near  future,  and  that  vast  quantities  of  material  which  would 
be  read  with  eagerness  by  future  generations  and  which 
would  be  carefully  preserved  if  it  were  durable,  will  not  be 
reprinted,  whatever  its  value.     We  may  be  sure  that  the 
daily  papers  of  the  present  year  will  never  be  reprinted; 
the  world  of  the  future  will  be  too  busy,  not  to  speak  of  the 
cost ;   yet  what  a  series  of  human  documents  will  disappear 
in  their  destruction  I    If  a  part  of  the  professional  obligation 
which  you  assumed  in  making  yourselves  responsible  for 
the  issues  of  the  press  is  to  transmit  the  record  of  this  gen- 
eration to  later  time,  then  it  seems  to  me  that  you  have  in 
great  measure  betrayed  your  trust  and  have  so  far  brought 
to  naught  the  labors  of  your*  comrade,  the  librarian,  in  the 
conservation  of  literature.    Also  you  compel  him  to  pay  for 
unnecessary  rebindings  which  can  hardly  be  made,  so  poor 
is  the  stock  you  furnish  the  binder;   yet  on  this  point  you 
have  shown  some  indications  of  a  change  of  heart,  and  I  will 
pass  it  over.    Perhaps  you  have  finally  come  to  realize  that 
every  cent  paid  for  rebinding  is  taken  out  of  your  gross  re- 
ceipts.   I  will  not  speak  of  the  books  that  you  ought  never 
to  have  published,  the  books  that  are  not  books ;   most  of 
these  the  librarian  can  avoid  buying,  but  sometimes  a  book 
is  just  "ower  gude  for  banning,"  and  he  has  to  take  it  and 
catalogue  it  and  store  it,  and  take  account  of  it  and  rearrange 
it,  and,  after  all,  get  scolded  by  his  authorities  or  ridiculed 

[46] 


BOOKS  AS  A  LIBRARIAN  WOULD  LIKE  THEM 

by  the  public  for  housing  so  much  rubbish.  The  author  is 
responsible  with  you  here,  but  your  own  individual  respon- 
sibility is  enough  for  any  shoulders  to  bear. 

To  the  printer  the  librarian  would  say:  since  wishing  is 
easy,  let  us  imagine  that  what  ought  always  to  happen  is 
happening  regularly  instead  of  rarely,  namely,  that  the 
author  produces  a  book  worth  printing  and  that  the  pub- 
lisher leaves  you  free  to  put  it  into  a  worthy  form.  This  is 
the  opportunity  that  you  have  always  been  looking  for.  How 
are  you  going  to  meet  it?  Do  you  know  all  the  elements 
that  you  deal  with  and  can  you  handle  them  with  a  sure 
touch  practically  and  esthetically?  If  so,  you  will  not  need 
any  hints  from  the  librarian,  and  he  will  order  your  book 
*' sight  unseen."  But  still,  among  the  good  and  right  ways 
of  making  books,  there  may  be  some  that  he  prefers,  and  he 
will  ask  you,  when  you  are  making  books  for  him  and  not 
for  private  buyers,  at  least  to  give  his  preferences  a  hearing. 
He  wants  his  books  no  bigger  physically  than  they  need  be, 
and  yet  he  would  like  to  have  them  of  a  convenient  height, 
from  seven  to  nine  inches.  He  would  rather  have  their  expan- 
sion in  height  and  width  and  not  in  thickness,  for  the  former 
dimensions  up  to  ten  and  a  half  inches  by  eight  mean  no 
increased  demand  upon  shelf  room,  while  the  thickness  of 
every  leaf  is  taken  out  of  his  library's  capacity.  He  would 
like  to  have  no  wasteful  margins  and  no  extreme  in  the  size 
of  type.  If  it  is  too  large,  the  book  takes  up  too  much  room; 
if  it  is  too  small,  his  readers  will  ruin  their  eyes  over  it  or, 
what  is  more  likely,  refuse  to  read  it  and  so  make  its  pos- 
session a  useless  expense.  For  the  sake  of  rapid  reading  he 
would  like  to  have  every  wide  page  printed  in  columns.  For 
the  same  reason  he  would  like  to  have  every  possible  help 
given  to  the  eye  in  the  way  of  paragraphs,  headlines,  and 
variation  of  type,  so  far  as  it  can  be  given  in  consonance 

[I7] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

with  the  esthetic  rights  of  the  book.  With  these  points  ob- 
served, and  the  book  printed  on  paper  as  thin  and  as  Hght  in 
weight  as  can  be  conveniently  used  and  is  consistent  with 
opacity  and  strength,  with  clear  type,  clear  and  durable  ink, 
and  good  press  work,  the  printer  will  have  done  his  part, 
and  a  book  will  go  to  the  binder  that  is  worthy  of  his  best 
treatment. 

What  that  treatment  is  the  binder  knows  better  than  I  can 
tell  him.  When  he  has  applied  it,  the  book  will  come  out 
of  his  hands  at  once  solid  and  flexible ;  unmutilated,  either 
on  the  outer  edges  where  mutilation  can  be  seen,  or  at  the 
back  where  it  cannot  be  seen,  but  where  it  nevertheless 
hurts  the  integrity  of  the  book ;  covered  with  honest  boards 
that  will  stand  use,  and  clad  with  a  material,  cloth  or  leather, 
that  is  both  strong  to  resist  wear  and  also  contains  within 
itself  no  seeds  of  deterioration.  Besides  this  let  it  have  a 
character,  however  unobtrusive,  befitting  the  contents  of  the 
book,  and  the  binder  will  have  paid  his  full  debt  to  the 
present  and  the  future. 

While  the  librarian's  ideals  of  bookmaking  are  not  the 
only  ones,  they  are  in  harmony  with  the  best,  and  there  can- 
not be  progress  in  bookmaking  without  approaching  his 
ideals.  He  is,  therefore,  by  his  very  office  committed  to 
every  undertaking  for  the  improvement  of  the  book,  and  be- 
cause of  the  efforts  of  librarians  and  other  booklovers  there 
is  ground  for  belief  that  the  books  of  the  present  decade  will 
be  better  than  those  of  the  last. 


[18] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 


E  who  use  books  every  day  as  tools  of  trade 
or  sources  of  inspiration  are  apt  to  over- 
look the  fact  that  the  book,  on  its  material 
side,  is  an  art  object.  Not,  indeed,  that 
it  ranks  w^ith  the  products  of  poetry, 
painting,  sculpture,  and  other  arts  of  the 
first  grade;  but  it  has  a  claim  to  our  consideration  on  the 
level  of  the  minor  arts,  along  with  jewelry,  pottery,  tapes- 
try, and  metal  work.  Moreover,  its  intimate  association  with 
literature,  of  which  it  is  the  visible  setting,  gives  it  a  charm 
that,  while  often  only  reflected,  may  also  be  contributory, 
heightening  the  beauty  that  it  enshrines. 

Using  the  word  beauty  for  the  result  of  artistic  mastery, 
we  may  say  that  in  the  other  arts  beauty  is  the  controlling 
factor  in  price,  but  in  the  book  this  is  the  case  only  excep- 
tionally. As  a  consequence  beautiful  books  are  more  acces- 
sible for  purchase  or  observation  than  any  other  equally 
beautiful  objects.  For  the  price  of  a  single  very  beautiful 
rug  one  can  obtain  a  small  library  of  the  choicest  books. 
Except  in  the  case  of  certain  masterpieces  of  the  earliest 
printing,  in  which  rarity  is  joined  to  beauty,  high  prices  for 
books  have  nothing  to  do  with  their  artistic  quality.  Even 
for  incunabula  one  need  pay  only  as  many  dollars  as  for 
tapestries  of  the  same  grade  one  would  have  to  pay  thou- 
sands. In  book  collecting,  therefore,  a  shallow  purse  is  not 
a  bar  to  achievement,  and  in  our  day  of  free  libraries  one 

[49] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

may  make  good  progress  in  the  knowledge  and  enjoyment 
of  beautiful  books  without  any  expense  at  all. 

Public  taste  is  probably  as  advanced  in  the  appreciation 
of  the  book  beautiful  as  of  any  other  branch  of  art,  but  it  is 
active  rather  than  enlightened.  This  activity  is  a  good  sign, 
for  it  represents  the  first  stage  in  comprehension;  the  next 
is  the  consciousness  that  there  is  more  in  the  subject  than 
had  been  realized;  the  third  is  appreciation.  The  present 
chapter  is  addressed  to  those — and  they  are  many — -who  are 
in  the  second  stage.  The  first  piece  of  advice  to  those  who 
seek  acquaintance  with  the  book  beautiful  is :  Surround  your- 
self with  books  that  the  best  judges  you  know  call  beautiful ; 
inspect  them,  handle  them;  cultivate  them  as  you  would 
friends.  It  will  not  be  long  before  most  other  books  begin 
to  annoy  you,  though  at  first  you  cannot  tell  why.  Then 
specific  differences  one  after  another  will  stand  out,  until  at 
last  you  come  to  know  something  of  the  various  elements  of 
the  book,  their  possibilities  of  beauty  or  ugliness,  and  their 
relations  one  to  another.  No  one  should  feel  ashamed  if 
this  process  takes  a  long  time  —  is  indeed  endless.  William 
Morris  pleaded  to  having  sinned  in  the  days  of  ignorance, 
even  after  he  had  begun  to  make  books.  So  wide  is  the 
field  and  so  many  and  subtle  are  the  possible  combinations 
that  all  who  set  out  to  know  books  must  expect,  like  the 
late  John  Richard  Green,  to  "die  learning."  But  the  learn- 
ing is  so  delightful  and  the  company  into  which  it  brings  us 
is  so  agreeable  that  we  have  no  cause  to  regret  our  lifelong 
apprenticeship. 

The  first  of  all  the  qualities  of  the  book  beautiful  is  fitness. 
It  must  be  adapted  to  the  literature  which  it  contains,  other- 
wise it  will  present  a  contradiction.  Imagine  a  "  Little 
Classic"  Josephus  or  a  folio  Keats.  The  literature  must  also 
be  worthy  of  a  beautiful  setting,  else  the  book  will  involve 

[5o] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 

an  absurdity.  Have  wc  not  all  seen  presentation  copies  of 
government  documents  which  gave  us  a  shock  when  we 
passed  from  the  elegant  outside  to  the  commonplace  inside? 
But  the  ideal  book  will  go  beyond  miere  fitness ;  it  will  be 
both  an  interpretation  of  its  contents  and  an  offering  of  hom- 
age to  its  worth.  The  beauty  of  the  whole  involves  perfect 
balance  as  well  as  beauty  of  the  parts.  No  one  must  take 
precedence  of  the  rest,  but  there  must  be  such  a  perfect  har- 
mony that  we  shall  think  first  of  the  total  effect  and  only 
afterwards  of  the  separate  elements  that  combine  to  produce 
it.  This  greatly  extends  our  problem,  but  also  our  delight 
in  its  happy  solutions. 

The  discerning  reader  has  probably  noticed  that  we  have 
already  smuggled  into  our  introduction  the  notion  that  the 
book  beautiful  is  a  printed  book;  and,  broadly  speaking,  so 
it  must  be  at  the  present  time.  But  we  should  not  forget 
that,  while  the  printed  book  has  charms  and  laws  of  its  own, 
the  book  was  originally  written  by  hand  and  in  this  form 
was  developed  to  a  higher  pitch  of  beauty  than  the  printed 
book  has  ever  attained.  As  Ruskin  says,  "A  well-written 
book  is  as  much  pleasanter  and  more  beautiful  than  a  printed 
book  as  a  picture  is  than  an  engraving."  Calligraphy  and 
illumination  are  to-day,  if  not  lost  arts,  at  best  but  faint 
echoes  of  their  former  greatness.  They  represent  a  field  of 
artistic  effort  in  which  many  persons  of  real  ability  might 
attain  far  greater  distinction  and  emolument  than  in  the 
overcrowded  ordinary  fields  of  art.  Printing  itself  would 
greatly  benefit  from  a  flourishing  development  of  original 
bookmaking,  gaining  just  that  stimulus  on  the  art  side  that 
it  needs  to  counterbalance  the  pressure  of  commercialism. 
At  present,  however,  we  shall  commit  no  injustice  if,  while 
remembering  its  more  perfect  original,  we  accept  the  printed 
book  as  the  representative  of  the  book  beautiful ;  but,  as  a 

[5.] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

matter  of  fact,  most  that  we  shall  have  to  say  of  it  will  ap- 
ply with  little  change  to  the  manuscript  book. 

A  final  point  by  way  of  preface  is  the  relation  of  the  book 
beautiful  to  the  well-made  book.  The  two  are  not  identical. 
A  book  may  be  legible,  strong,  and  durable,  yet  ill-propor- 
tioned and  clumsy,  ugly  in  every  detail.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  book  beautiful  must  be  well  made,  else  it  will  not  keep 
its  beauty.  The  point  where  the  two  demands  tend  most  to 
conflict  is  at  the  hinge  of  the  cover,  where  strength  calls  for 
thickness  of  leather  and  beauty  for  thinness.  The  skill  of 
the  good  binder  is  shown  in  harmonizing  these  demands 
when  he  shaves  the  under  side  of  the  leather  for  the  joint. 
Let  us  now  take  up  the  elements  of  the  book  one  by  one  and 
consider  their  relations  to  beauty. 

To  one  who  never  had  seen  a  book  before  it  would  seem, 
as  it  stands  on  the  shelf  or  lies  on  the  table,  a  curious  rectan- 
gular block;  and  such  it  is  in  its  origin,  being  derived  from 
the  Roman  codex,  which  was  a  block  of  wood  split  into  thin 
layers.  When  closed,  therefore,  the  book  must  have  the 
seeming  solidity  of  a  block;  but  open  it  and  a  totally  new 
character  appears.  It  is  now  a  bundle  of  thin  leaves,  and  its 
beauty  no  longer  consists  in  its  solidity  and  squareness,  but 
in  the  opposite  qualities  of  easy  and  complete  opening,  and 
flowing  curves.  This  inner  contradiction,  so  far  from  mak- 
ing the  book  a  compromise  and  a  failure,  is  one  of  the  great- 
est sources  of  its  charm,  for  each  condition  must  be  met  as 
if  the  other  did  not  exist,  and  when  both  are  so  met,  we  de- 
rive the  same  satisfaction  as  from  any  other  combination  of 
strength  and  grace,  such  as  Schiller  celebrates  in  his  ' '  Song 
of  the  Bell." 

The  book  therefore  consists  of  a  stiff  cover  joined  by  a 
flexible  back — in  the  book  beautiful  a  tight  back — and  In- 
closing highly  flexible  leaves.    The  substance  of  the  board  is 

[52] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 

not  visible,  being  covered  with  an  ornamental  material,  either 
cloth  or  leather,  but  it  should  be  strong  and  tough  and  in 
thickness  proportioned  to  the  size  of  the  volume.  In  very 
recent  years  we  have  available  for  book  coverings  really 
beautiful  cloths,  which  are  also  more  durable  than  all  but 
the  best  leathers ;  but  we  have  a  right  to  claim  for  the  book 
beautiful  a  covering  of  leather,  and  full  leather,  not  merely  a 
back  and  hinges .  We  have  a  wide  range  of  beauty  in  leathers , 
from  the  old  ivory  of  parchment — when  it  has  had  a  few 
centuries  in  which  to  ripen  its  color — to  the  sensuous  rich- 
ness of  calf  and  the  splendor  of  crushed  levant.  The  nature 
of  the  book  must  decide,  if  the  choice  is  yet  to  be  made. 
But,  when  the  book  has  been  covered  with  appropriate 
leather  so  deftly  that  the  leather  seems  ' '  grown  around  the 
board,"  and  has  been  lettered  on  the  back — a  necessary 
addition  giving  a  touch  of  ornament  —  we  are  brought  up 
against  the  hard  fact  that,  unless  the  decorator  is  very  skill- 
ful indeed — a  true  artist  as  well  as  a  deft  workman  —  he 
cannot  add  another  touch  to  the  book  without  lessening  its 
beauty.  The  least  obtrusive  addition  will  be  blind  tooling, 
or,  as  in  so  many  old  books,  stamping,  which  may  empha- 
size the  depth  of  color  in  the  leather.  The  next  step  in  the 
direction  of  ornament  is  gilding,  the  next  inlaying.  In  the 
older  books  we  find  metal  clasps  and  corners,  which  have 
great  decorative  possibilities;  but  these,  like  precious  stones, 
have  disappeared  from  book  ornamentation  in  modern  times 
before  the  combined  inroad  of  the  democratic  and  the  classic 
spirit. 

Having  once  turned  back  the  cover,  our  interest  soon  for- 
sakes it  for  the  pages  inclosed  by  it.  The  first  of  these  is 
the  page  opposite  the  inside  of  the  cover ;  obviously  it  should 
be  of  the  same  or,  at  least,  of  a  similar  material  to  the  body 
of  the  book.    But  the  inside  of  the  cover  is  open  to  two 

[53] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

treatments  ;  it  may  bear  the  material  either  of  the  outer 
covering  or  of  the  pages  within.  So  it  may  display,  for  in- 
stance, a  beautiful  panel  of  leather  —  doublure  —  or  it  may 
share  with  the  next  page  a  decorative  lining  paper  ;  but  that 
next  page  should  never  be  of  leather,  for  it  is  the  first  page 
of  the  book. 

As  regards  book  papers,  we  are  to-day  in  a  more  fortunate 
position  than  we  were  even  a  few  years  ago ;  for  we  now 
can  obtain,  and  at  no  excessive  cost,  papers  as  durable  as  those 
employed  by  the  earliest  printers.  It  is  needless  to  say  that 
these  are  relatively  rough  papers.  They  represent  one  es- 
thetic advance  in  papermaking  since  the  earliest  days  in  that 
they  are  not  all  dead  white.  Some  of  the  books  of  the  first 
age  of  printing  still  present  to  the  eye  very  nearly  the  black- 
est black  on  the  whitest  white.  But,  while  this  effect  is 
strong  and  brilliant,  it  is  not  the  most  pleasing.  The  result 
most  agreeable  to  the  eye  still  demands  black  or  possibly  a 
dark  blue  ink,  but  the  white  of  the  paper  should  be  softened. 
Whether  we  should  have  made  this  discovery  of  our  own 
wit  no  one  can  tell ;  but  it  was  revealed  to  us  by  the  darken- 
ing of  most  papers  under  the  touch  of  time.  Shakespeare 
forebodes  this  yellowing  of  his  pages ;  but  what  was  then 
thought  of  as  a  misfortune  has  since  been  accepted  as  an* 
element  of  beauty,  and  now  book  papers  are  regularly  made 
"antique"  as  well  as  "  white."  Even  white  does  not  please 
us  unless  it  inclines  to  creamy  yellow  rather  than  to  blue. 
But  here,  as  everywhere,  it  is  easy  to  overstep  the  bounds  of 
moderation  and  turn  excess  into  a  defect.  The  paper  of  the 
book  beautiful  will  not  attract  attention ;  we  shall  not  see  it 
until  our  second  look  at  the  page.  The  paper  must  not  be 
too  thick  for  the  size  of  the  book,  else  the  volume  will  not 
open  well,  and  its  pages,  instead  of  having  a  flowing  charac- 
ter, will  be  stiff  and  hard. 

[U] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 

The  sewing  of  the  book  is  not  really  in  evidence,  except 
indirectly.  Upon  the  sewing  and  gluing,  after  the  paper, 
depends  the  flexibility  of  the  book ;  but  the  sewing  in  most 
early  books  shows  in  the  raised  bands  across  the  back,  which 
are  due  to  the  primitive  and  preferable  stitch.  It  may  also 
show  in  some  early  and  much  modern  work  in  saw-marks  at 
the  inner  fold  when  the  book  is  spread  wide  open ;  but  no 
such  book  can  figure  as  a  book  beautiful.  The  head  band 
is  in  primitive  books  a  part  of  the  sewing,  though  in  all 
modern  books,  except  those  that  represent  a  revival  of  me- 
dieval methods,  it  is  Something  bought  by  the  yard  and  stuck 
in  without  any  structural  connection  with  the  rest  of  the 
book. 

It  is  the  page  and  not  the  cover  that  controls  the  propor- 
tions of  the  book,  as  the  living  nautilus  controls  its  inclos- 
ing shell.  The  range  in  the  size  of  books  is  very  great — 
from  the  "  fly's-eye  Dante"  to  "Audubon's  Birds"  —  but 
the  range  in  proportion  within  the  limits  of  beauty  is  aston- 
ishingly small,  a  difference  in  the  relation  of  the  width  of 
the  page  to  its  height  between  about  sixty  and  seventy-five 
per  cent.  If  the  width  is  diminished  to  nearer  one-half  the 
height,  the  page  becomes  too  narrow  for  beauty,  besides 
making  books  of  moderate  size  too  narrow  to  open  well. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  the  width  is  much  more  than  three- 
quarters  of  the  height,  the  page  off'ends  by  looking  too  square. 
In  the  so-called  "printer's  oblong,"  formed  by  taking  twice 
the  width  for  the  diagonal,  the  width  is  just  under  fifty-eight 
per  cent  of  the  height,  and  this  is  the  limit  of  stately  slen- 
derness  in  a  volume.  As  we  go  much  over  sixty  per  cent, 
the  book  loses  in  grace  until  we  approach  seventy-five  per 
cent,  when  a  new  quahty  appears,  which  characterizes  the 
quarto,  not  so  much  beauty,  perhaps,  except  in  small  sizes, 
as  a  certain  attractiveness,  like  that  of  a  freight  boat,  which 

[55] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

sets  off  the  finer  lines  of  its  more  elegant  associates.  A  really 
square  book  would  be  a  triumph  of  ugliness.  Oblong  books 
also  rule  themselves  out  of  our  category.  A  book  has  still 
a  third  element  in  its  proportions,  thickness.  A  very  thin 
book  may  be  beautiful,  but  a  book  so  thick  as  to  be  chunky 
or  squat  is  as  lacking  in  elegance  as  the  words  we  apply  to 
it.  To  err  on  the  side  of  thickness  is  easy;  to  err  on  the 
side  of  thinness  is  hard,  since  even  a  broadside  may  be  a 
thing  of  beauty. 

We  now  come  to  the  type-page,  of  which  the  paper  is  only 
the  carrier  and  framework.  This  should  have,  as  nearly  as 
possible,  the  proportion  of  the  paper — really  it  is  the  type 
that  should  control  the  paper — and  the  two  should  obvi- 
ously belong  together.  The  margins  need  not  be  extremely 
large  for  beauty ;  an  amount  of  surface  equal  to  that  occu- 
pied by  the  type  is  ample.  There  was  once  a  craze  for  broad 
margins  and  even  for  "large-paper"  copies,  in  which  the 
type  was  lost  in  an  expanse  of  margin ;  but  book  designers 
have  come  to  realize  that  the  proportion  of  white  to  black 
on  a  page  can  as  easily  be  too  great  as  too  small.  Far  more 
important  to  the  beauty  of  a  page  than  the  extent  of  the 
margin  are  its  proportions.  The  eye  demands  that  the  upper 
margin  of  a  printed  page  or  a  framed  engraving  shall  be 
narrower  than  the  lower,  but  here  the  kinship  of  page  to 
picture  ceases.  The  picture  is  seen  alone,  but  the  printed 
page  is  one  of  a  pair  and  makes  with  its  mate  a  double  dia- 
gram. This  consists  of  two  panels  of  black  set  between  two 
outer  columns  of  white  and  separated  by  a  column  of  white. 
Now  if  the  outer  and  inner  margins  of  a  page  are  equal,  the 
inner  column  of  the  complete  figure  will  be  twice  as  wide  as 
the  outer.  The  inner  margin  of  the  page  should  therefore 
be  half  (or,  to  allow  for  the  sewing  and  the  curve  of  the  leaf, 
a  little  more  than  half)  the  width  of  the  outer.    Then,  when 

[56] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 

we  open  the  book,  we  shall  see  three  columns  of  equal  width. 
The  type  and  paper  pages,  being  of  the  same  shape,  should 
as  a  rule  be  set  on  a  common  diagonal  from  the  inner  upper 
corner  to  the  outer  lower  corner.  This  arrangement  will 
give  the  same  proportion  between  the  top  and  bottom  mar- 
gins as  was  assigned  to  the  inner  and  outer.  It  is  by  atten- 
tion to  this  detail  that  one  of  the  greatest  charms  in  the  design 
of  the  book  may  be  attained. 

We  saw  that  the  shape  of  the  book  is  a  rectangle,  and 
this  would  naturally  be  so  if  there  were  no  other  reason  for 
it  than  because  the  smallest  factor  of  the  book,  the  type,  is 
in  the  cross-section  of  its  body  a  rectangle.  The  printed  page 
is  really  built  up  of  tiny  invisible  rectangles,  which  thus  de- 
termine the  shape  of  the  paper  page  and  of  the  cover.  A 
page  may  be  beautiful  from  its  paper,  its  proportions,  its 
color  effects,  even  if  it  is  not  legible ;  but  the  book  beautiful, 
really  to  satisfy  us,  must  neither  strain  the  eye  with  too 
small  type  nor  offend  it  with  fantastic  departures  from  the 
normal.  The  size  of  the  type  must  not  be  out  of  proportion 
to  that  of  the  page  or  the  column ;  for  two  or  more  columns 
are  not  barred  from  the  book  beautiful.  The  letters  must  be 
beautiful  individually  and  beautiful  in  combination.  It  has 
been  remarked  that  while  roman  capitals  are  superb  in  com- 
bination, black-letter  capitals  are  incapable  of  team  play, 
being,  when  grouped,  neither  legible  nor  beautiful.  There 
has  been  a  recent  movement  in  the  direction  of  legibility  that 
has  militated  against  beauty  of  type,  and  that  is  the  enlarg- 
ing of  the  body  of  the  ordinary  lowercase  letters  at  the  ex- 
pense of  its  limbs,  the  ascenders  and  descenders,  especially 
the  latter.  The  eye  takes  little  account  of  descenders  in 
reading,  because  it  runs  along  a  line  just  below  the  tops  of 
the  ordinary  letters,  about  at  the  bar  of  the  small  e;  never- 
theless, to  one  who  has  learned  to  appreciate  beauty  in  type 

[57] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

design  there  is  something  distressing  in  the  atrophied  or  dis- 
torted body  of  the  g  in  so  many  modern  types  and  the 
stunted  p's  and  q's  —  which  the  designer  clearly  did  not 
mind  I  The  ascenders  sometimes  fare  nearly  as  badly.  Now 
types  of  this  compressed  character  really  call  for  leading,  or 
separation  of  the  lines;  and  when  this  has  been  done,  the 
blank  spaces  thus  created  might  better  have  been  occupied 
by  the  tops  and  bottoms  of  unleaded  lines  containing  letters 
of  normal  length  and  height.  Too  much  leading,  like  too 
wide  margins,  dazzles  and  offends  the  eye  with  its  excess  of 
white.  The  typesetting  machines  have  also  militated  against 
beauty  by  requiring  that  every  letter  shall  stand  within  the 
space  of  its  own  feet  or  shoulders.  Thus  the  lowercase  f  and 
y  and  the  uppercase  Q  are  shorn  of  their  due  proportions. 
These  are  points  that  most  readers  do  not  notice,  but  they 
are  essential,  for  the  type  of  the  book  beautiful  must  not  be 
deformed  by  expediency.  On  the  other  hand,  it  need  not  be 
unusual ;  if  it  is,  it  must  be  exceptionally  fine  to  pass  muster 
at  all.  The  two  extremes  of  standard  roman  type,  Gaslon 
and  Bodoni,  are  handsome  enough  for  any  book  of  prose. 
One  may  go  farther  in  either  direction,  but  at  one's  risk. 
For  poetry.  Cloister  Oldstyle  offers  a  safe  norm,  from  which 
any  wide  departure  must  have  a  correspondingly  strong  ar- 
tistic warrant.  All  these  three  types  are  beautiful,  in  their 
letters  themselves,  and  in  the  combinations  of  their  letters 
into  lines,  paragraphs,  and  pages.  Beautiful  typography  is 
the  very  foundation  of  the  book  beautiful. 

But  beautiful  typography  involves  other  elements  than  the 
cut  of  the  type  itself.  The  proofreading  must  be  trained  and 
consistent,  standing  for  much  more  than  the  mere  correction 
of  errors.  The  presswork  must  be  strong  and  even.  The 
justification  must  be  individual  for  each  line,  and  not  accord- 
ing to  a  fixed  scale  as  in  machine   setting;    even  when  we 

[58] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 

hold  the  page  upside  down,  we  must  not  be  able  to  detect 
any  streamlets  of  white  slanting  across  the  page.  Moreover, 
if  the  page  is  leaded,  the  spacing  must  be  wider  in  propor- 
tion, so  that  the  color  picture  of  the  rectangle  of  type  shall 
be  even  and  not  form  a  zebra  of  black  and  white  stripes.  It 
is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  registration  must  be  true, 
so  that  the  lines  of  the  two  pages  on  the  same  leaf  shall  show 
accurately  back  to  back  when  one  holds  the  page  to  the  light. 
Minor  elements  of  the  page  may  contribute  beauty  or  ugli- 
ness according  to  their  handling :  the  headline  and  page 
number,  their  character  and  position;  notes  marginal  or 
indented,  footnotes;  chapter  headings  and  initials;  catch- 
words; borders,  head  and  tail  pieces,  vignettes,  ornamental 
rules.  Even  the  spacing  of  initials  is  a  task  for  the  skilled 
craftsman.  Some  printers  go  so  far  as  to  miter  or  shave  the 
type-body  of  initials  to  make  them,  when  printed,  seem  to 
cling  more  closely  to  the  following  text.  Indenting,  above  all 
in  poetry,  is  a  feature  strongly  affecting  the  beauty  of  the  page. 
Not  too  many  words  may  be  divided  between  lines ;  other- 
wise the  line  endings  will  bristle  with  hyphens.  A  paragraph 
should  not  end  at  the  bottom  of  a  page  nor  begin  too  near  it, 
neither  should  a  final  page  contain  too  little  nor  be  completely 
full.  Minor  parts  of  the  book,  the  half-title,  the  dedication 
page,  the  table  of  contents,  the  preface,  the  index,  present 
so  many  opportunities  to  make  or  mar  the  whole.  Especially 
is  this  true  of  the  title-page.  This  the  earliest  books  did  not 
have,  and  many  a  modern  printer,  confronted  with  a  piece  of 
refractory  title  copy,  must  have  sighed  for  the  good  old  days 
of  the  colophon.  Whole  books  have  been  written  on  the 
title-page;  it  must  suffice  here  to  say  that  each  represents 
a  new  problem,  a  triumphant  solution  of  which  gives  the 
booklover  as  much  pleasure  to  contemplate  as  any  other 
single  triumph  of  the  volume. 

[59] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

But  what  of  color  —  splendid  initials  in  red,  blue,  or 
green,  rubricated  headings,  lines,  or  paragraphs?  It  is  all  a 
question  of  propriety,  literary  and  artistic.  The  same  prin- 
ciple holds  as  in  decoration  of  binding.  A  beautiful  black  and 
white  page  is  so  beautiful  that  he  who  would  improve  it  by 
color  must  be  sure  of  his  touch.  The  beauty  of  the  result 
and  never  the  beauty  of  the  means  by  itself  must  be  the  test. 

But  books  are  not  always  composed  of  text  alone.  We 
need  not  consider  diagrams,  which  hardly  concern  the  book 
beautiful,  except  to  say  that,  being  composed  of  lines,  they 
are  often  really  more  decorative  than  illustrations  fondly  sup- 
posed to  be  artistic.  The  fact  that  an  engraving  is  beautiful  is 
no  proof  that  it  will  contribute  beauty  to  a  book ;  it  may  only 
make  an  esthetic  mess  of  the  text  and  itself.  As  types  are 
composed  of  firm  black  lines,  only  fairly  strong  black-line 
engravings  have  any  artistic  right  in  the  book.  This  dic- 
tum, however,  would  rule  out  so  many  pictures  enjoyed  by 
the  reader  that  he  may  well  plead  for  a  less  sweeping  ban; 
so,  as  a  concession  to  weakness,  we  may  allow  white-line 
engravings  and  half-tones  if  they  are  printed  apart  from  the 
text  and  separated  from  it,  either  by  being  placed  at  the  end 
of  the  book  or  by  having  a  sheet  of  opaque  paper  dividing 
each  from  the  text.  In  this  case  the  legend  of  the  picture 
should  face  it  so  that  the  reader  will  have  no  occasion  to  look 
beyond  the  two  pages  when  he  has  them  before  him.  The 
printers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  especially  the  Dutch,  did 
not  hesitate  to  send  their  pages  through  two  presses,  one  the 
typographic  press,  and  the  other  the  roller  press  for  copper- 
plate engravings.  The  results  give  us  perhaps  the  best  ex- 
ample that  we  have  of  things  beautiful  in  themselves  but 
unlovely  in  combination.  As  in  the  use  of  other  ornamen- 
tal features,  there  are  no  bounds  to  the  use  of  illustration 
except  that  of  fitness. 

[60] 


THE  BOOK  BEAUTIFUL 

We  have  spoken  of  margins  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
page;  from  that  of  the  closed  book  they  appear  as  edges, 
and  here  they  present  several  problems  in  the  design  of  the 
book  beautiful.  If  the  book  is  designed  correctly  from  the 
beginning,  the  margins  will  be  of  just  the  right  width  and 
the  edges  cannot  be  trimmed  without  making  them  too  nar- 
row. Besides,  the  untrimmed  edges  are  witnesses  to  the 
integrity  of  the  book;  if  any  exception  may  be  made,  it  will 
be  in  the  case  of  the  top  margin,  which  may  be  gilded  both 
for  beauty  and  to  make  easy  the  removal  of  dust.  But  the 
top  should  be  rather  shaved  than  trimmed,  so  that  the  mar- 
gin may  not  be  visibly  reduced.  The  gilding  of  all  the  edges, 
or  "full  gilt,"  is  hardly  appropriate  to  the  book  beautiful, 
though  it  may  be  allowed  in  devotional  books,  especially 
those  in  limp  binding,  and  its  effect  may  there  be  heightened 
by  laying  the  gilt  on  red  or  some  other  color.  Edges  may 
be  goffered,  that  is,  decorated  with  incised  or  burnt  lines, 
though  the  result,  like  tattooing,  is  more  curious  than  orna- 
mental. The  edges  may  even  be  made  to  receive  pictures, 
but  here  again  the  effect  smacks  of  the  barbaric. 

We  have  now  gone  over  our  subject  in  the  large.  To  pur- 
sue it  with  all  possible  degrees  of  minuteness  would  require 
volumes.  William  Morris,  for  instance,  discusses  the  proper 
shape  for  the  dot  of  the  i ;  and  even  the  size  of  the  dot  and 
its  place  above  the  letter  are  matters  on  which  men  hold 
warring  opinions.  We  have  not  even  raised  the  question  of 
laid  or  wove  paper,  nor  of  the  intermixture  of  different  series 
or  sizes  of  types.  In  short,  every  phase  of  the  subject  bristles 
with  moot  points,  the  settlement  of  one  of  which  in  a  given 
way  may  determine  the  settlement  of  a  score  of  others. 

But  what  is  the  use  to  the  public  of  this  knowledge  and 
enjoyment  of  ours?  Is  it  not  after  all  a  fruitless  piece  of 
self-indulgence?    Surely,  if  bookmaking  is  one  of  the  minor 

[6i] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

arts,  then  the  private  knowledge  and  enjoyment  of  its  prod- 
ucts is  an  element  in  the  culture  of  the  community.  But  it 
is  more  than  that ;  it  is  both  a  pledge  and  a  stimulus  to  ex- 
cellence in  future  production.  Artists  in  all  fields  are  popu- 
larly stigmatized  as  a  testy  lot — irritabile  genus — but  their 
techiness  does  not  necessarily  mean  opposition  to  criticism, 
but  only  to  uninformed  and  unappreciative  criticism,  espe- 
cially if  it  be  cocksure  and  blatant.  There  is  nothing  that 
the  true  artist  craves  so  much — not  even  praise — as  under- 
standing of  his  work  and  the  welcome  that  awaits  his  work 
in  hand  from  the  lips  of  "those  who  know."  Thus  those 
who  appreciate  and  welcome  the  book  beautiful,  by  their 
encouragement  help  to  miake  it  more  beautiful,  and  so  by 
head  and  heart,  if  not  by  hand,  they  share  in  the  artist's  crea- 
tive effort.  Also,  by  thus  promoting  beauty  in  books,  they 
discourage  ugliness  in  books,  narrowing  the  public  that  will 
accept  ugly  books  and  lessening  the  degree  of  ugliness  that 
even  this  public  will  endure.  Finally,  it  seems  no  mere 
fancy  to  hold  that  by  creating  the  book  beautiful  as  the  set- 
ting of  the  noblest  literature,  we  are  rendering  that  literature 
itself  a  service  in  the  eyes  of  others  through  the  costly  tribute 
that  we  pay  to  the  worth  of  the  jewel  itself. 


[6=.] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 


N  De  Morgan's  winsome  story,  "Alice  for 
Short,"  the  heroine  of  the  earlier  portion. 
Miss  Peggy  Heath,  is  made  to  feel  what  it 
would  mean  to  her  to  be  deprived  of  a 
certain  companion,  and  thus  realizes  his 
'^^lA^!^f^'^A\y^j  importance  to  her  life. 

It  is  this  test  of  elimination  that  I  shall  ask  you  to  apply 
to  reading.  Imagine  yourselves  deprived  of  the  privilege,  as 
many  another  has  been  by  loss  of  sight  or  illness  or  poverty 
or  removal  from  book  centers.  I  have  in  mind  such  an  in- 
stance. The  late  Professor  William  Mathews  was  injured  by 
a  fall  when  he  was  ninety  years  old,  and  until  the  end  of 
his  life,  about  a  year  later,  was  confined  to  his  bed.  You 
may  know  him  as  the  author  of  various  books  of  essays: 
"Getting  on  in  the  World,"  "Great  Conversers,"  "Hours 
with  Men  and  Books,"  "Words,  their  Use  and  Abuse,"  and 
other  volumes  that  testify  a  marvelous  range  of  acquaintance 
with  literature.  He  wrote  to  a  friend  that  he  was  brighten- 
ing his  hours  of  loneliness  by  repeating  to  himself  passages 
of  poetry  and  prose  that  he  had  learned  by  heart  in  his  ear- 
lier days.  Few  of  us  can  ever  have  such  stores  of  memory 
to  draw  upon  as  his,  but  how  happy  we  should  be  if  under 
such  circumstances  we  might  be  able  to  turn  to  a  like  source 
of  consolation.  Yet  we  have  a  much  more  famous  instance  of 
a  great  scholar  cut  off  from  the  privilege  of  reading.  Milton 
has  given  us  in  his  famous  invocation  to  Light,  with  which 
he  opens  the  third  book  of  ' '  Paradise  Lost,"  a  picture  of  his 

[63]. 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

own  deprivation,  presented  with  a  universal  blank  in  place 
of  Nature's  fair  book  of  knowledge.  The  passage  is  too  long 
to  quote  here,  but  let  the  reader  turn  to  it,  if  only  to  refresh 
his  memory. 

This  shows  the  privilege  that  we  are  now  enjoying,  and 
it  may  perhaps  be  sufficient  to  take  our  lesson  at  this  point; 
but  since  it  is  always  pleasanter  to  consider  gain  rather  than 
loss,  suppose  we  turn  the  subject  around  and  imagine  how 
it  would  seem  if,  after  having  been  deprived  all  our  lives  of 
the  privilege  of  reading,  we  suddenly  had  it  thrust  upon  us. 
We  should  now  find  ourselves  able  to  enjoy  those  wonderful 
works  of  literature  which  we  had  always  been  hearing  about 
from  the  lips  of  others,  but  had  never  been  able  to  know  di- 
rectly. How  we  should  revel  in  the  prospect  before  us  I  At 
last  to  be  able  to  read  the  "Iliad"!  To  follow  the  fortunes 
of  wandering  Ulysses  I  To  accompany  Dante  in  his  mysti- 
cal journey  through  the  three  worlds !  To  dare  with  Macbeth 
and  to  doubt  with  Hamlet  I  Our  trouble  would  be  that  we 
should  not  know  which  to  select  first.  We  should  wish  we 
had  the  eyes  of  an  insect  that  we  might  read  them  all  at 
once. 

We  have  a  familiar  expression  in  taking  leave  of  our 
friends,  ' '  Be  good  to  yourself  I  "  which,  it  will  be  seen,  is  the 
modern  man's  translation  of  the  old  "farewell,  "  with  the 
truly  modern  implication  that  the  question  of  his  faring  well 
will  depend  upon  himself.  But  can  we  call  a  man  good  to 
himself  who  does  not  avail  himself  of  advantages  that  are 
freely  open  to  him  and  that  others  about  him  are  embracing? 
The  great  men  of  the  past  have  been  such  because  to  their 
natural  abilities  they  added  an  acquaintance  with  the  thought 
of  the  great  men  who  preceded  them.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  men  whom  we  are  glad  to  honor  among  our  contempo- 
raries.   We    may  feel  very  sure   that  we   are   not  heaven- 

[64] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

descended  geniuses,  or  even  possessed  of  unusual  talent;  and 
yet,  if  we  do  not  give  ourselves  the  advantages  that  all  those 
had  who  have  won  distinction,  we  have  certainly  not  given 
ourselves  a  fair  chance  to  show  what  is  in  us.  Therefore,  as 
a  duty  to  ourselves,  we  must  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
books  that  the  common  judgment  of  the  world  has  pro- 
nounced to  be  of  the  most  value.  They  must  become  more 
than  names  to  us.  We  may  not  indeed  find  in  all  of  them 
food  for  our  own  spirits,  but  it  is  a  part  of  our  business 
in  seeking  a  knowledge  of  mankind  to  know  the  thoughts 
and  thought-forms  that  men  have  found  of  most  worth.  It 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  we  shall  prize  all  these  books 
equally ;  some  of  them  will  never  be  more  to  us  than  great 
monuments  which,  for  some  reason  peculiar  to  our  tempera- 
ments, do  not  appeal  to  us  ;  but  among  their  number  we 
shall  find  some  that  will  throw  open  to  our  souls  the  very 
gates  of  heaven — books  that  will  raise  our  natures  forever- 
more  to  a  higher  power,  as  if  from  two-dimensional  Flat- 
land  creatures  we  had  suddenly  been  advanced  to  three 
dimensions,  or,  in  our  own  humdrum  world  of  length, 
breadth,  and  thickness,  we  had  received  the  liberty  of  the 
mysterious  fourth  dimension. 

Let  us  now  take  a  brief  inventory  of  our  heritage.  We 
can  glance  at  only  the  most  precious  of  these  treasures,  the 
crown  jewels  of  the  world's  literature,  which  are  all  ours, 
whether  we  choose  to  wear  them  or  not.  But  first  let  me 
make  it  plain  that  I  am  not  assuming  that  all  the  great 
monuments  of  human  genius  are  literary.  I  am  not  forgets 
ful  of  the  fact  that  literature  is  only  one  of  the  fine  arts,  that 
the  Strassburg  Cathedral,  Beethoven's  Ninth  Symphony, 
Rembrandt's  School  of  Anatomy,  Michelangelo's  Moses  are 
all  products  of  man's  creative  genius,  records  of  the  life  of 
God  in  the  soul  of  man.    But  I  do  insist  that  literature  is 

[65] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

the  most  inclusive  and  the  most  definite  of  all  the  arts,  and 
that  therefore  books  unlock  to  us  a  vaster  world  than  obeys 
the  spell  of  any  other  art.  One  man's  soul  may  attain  its 
transfiguration  through  architecture  or  music  or  painting  or 
sculpture  as  another  does  through  poetry ;  the  great  thing  is 
to  attain  the  transfiguration ;  and  let  us  be  thankful  for  the 
many  ways  in  which  God  fulfills  himself  to  man.  I  am  not 
trying  to  make  out  a  case  for  literature,  but  literature  is  my 
subject,  and  what  I  say  of  it  must  be  taken  as  equally 
friendly  to  all  the  other  great  forms  of  human  expression 
and  often  as  equally  applicable  to  them. 

We  will  not  talk  of  a  five-foot  or  a  three-foot  shelf,  or  one 
of  any  other  exact  dimension,  though  I  suspect  that  no  very 
long  range  of  space  would  be  required  to  hold  all  the  su- 
premely great  books  for  whose  contents  we  should  have 
room  in  our  souls.  The  limitation  will  prove  to  be  in  us 
rather  than  in  the  material  of  literature.  The  Bible,  while 
containing  supremely  great  literature,  has  still  higher  claims, 
and  for  the  present  discussion  may  be  left  to  its  special  ad- 
vocates. But  meanwhile  our  treasures  are  waiting  for  their 
inventory. 

Literature  for  people  of  our  race  begins  with  Homer  and 
is  confined  to  Europe  and  English  America.  This  means  in 
a  very  true  sense  that  all  the  literature  which  concerns  us 
is  modern,  for  the  Greeks  are  the  first  and  perhaps  the  great- 
est of  the  moderns.  They  present  us  as  their  first  contribu- 
tion the  works  that  go  under  the  name  of  Homer,  and  we 
need  not  disturb  ourselves  now  with  the  question  whether 
the  "Iliad"  and  the  "Odyssey"  were  both  written  by  the 
same  man,  or  even  each  written  by  a  single  hand.  The 
point  is  that  we  have  in  them  an  imperishable  picture  of  the 
life  of  a  vanished  world.  Each  is  an  epic  of  the  natural  man, 
the  one  national,  the  other  personal.    In  the  "Iliad"  we  are 

[66] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

plunged  into  the  thickening  close  of  the  ten  years'  war  be- 
tween the  Greeks  and  Trojans,  during  which  the  beautiful 
cause  of  all  the  trouble,  Helen,  retains  all  her  youthful 
bloom  and,  in  fact,  nobody  seems  to  grow  any  older.  We 
have  a  crowded  stage  with  many  episodes  and  interests.  In 
the  "Odyssey  "  we  trace  the  fortunes  of  one  man,  Ulysses, 
during  his  return  from  the  war,  which  occupies  him  ten 
years,  so  that  he  is  away  from  home,  as  Rip  Van  Winkle 
was,  twenty  years  ;  but,  instead  of  finding  everybody  grown 
old  or  dead,  as  Irving' s  hero  did,  he  finds  his  wife  still 
young  and  attractive  and  beset  by  numerous  suitors.  We 
are  very  glad  to  have  this  so,  because  we  are  all  children  at 
heart  and  want  just  such  an  ending.  The  telling  of  these 
stories,  while  simple,  is  on  a  lofty  plane;  the  gods  them- 
selves take  part  in  the  passions  of  the  contestants  and  even 
in  the  warfare.  The  poet,  no  doubt,  meant  this  for  what  it 
professes  to  be;  but  I  cannot  help  seeing  in  the  embroiling 
of  Olympus  a  perhaps  unrealized  tribute  of  the  poet  to  the 
greatness  of  the  human  soul  in  the  scale  of  the  universe,  a 
suggestion  that  moral  and  spiritual  values  and  powers  out- 
weigh the  stars  in  their  courses. 

Great  as  are  the  works  of  Homer,  we  are  not  to  suppose 
them  the  only  masterpieces  in  Greek  literature.  Certainly 
the  three  great  dramatists  cannot  be  omitted,  all  so  great, 
yet  so  unlike.  These  three,  together  with  two  pastoral  poets, 
one  lyric  poet,  and  the  greatest  of  prose  poets,  are  vividly 
pictured  by  Mrs.  Browning  in  the  glowing  stanzas  of  her 
"Wine  of  Cyprus." 

Oh,  our  ^schylus,  the  thunderous  I 

How  he  drove  the  bolted  breath 
Through  the  cloud,  to  wedge  it  ponderous 

In  the  gnarled  oak  beneath. 
Oh,  our  Sophocles,  the  royal, 

Who  was  born  to  monarch's  place, 

[67] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

And  who  made  the  whole  world  loyal, 

Less  by  kingly  power  than  grace. 
Our  Euripides,  the  human. 

With  his  droppings  of  warm  tears. 
And  his  touches  of  things  common 

Till  they  rose  to  touch  the  spheres ! 
Our  Theocritus,  our  Bion, 

And  our  Pindar's  shining  goals!  — 
These  were  cup-bearers  undying 

Of  the  wine  that 's  meant  for  souls. 
And  my  Plato,  the  divine  one. 

If  men  know  the  gods  aright 
By  their  motions  as  they  shine  on 

With  a  glorious  trail  of  light  I  — 

It  would  not  be  surprising  if  some  who  read  these  lines 
should  find  more  food  for  mind  and  soul  in  Plato  than  in 
any  other  of  the  Greek  writers.  Certainly  those  works  of 
Plato  and  his  contemporary,  Xenophon,  that  relate  to  the 
life,  teachings,  and  death  of  Socrates  are  contributions  to 
a  yet  uncollected  Bible  of  humanity,  one  more  inclusive  than 
that  of  Jew  or  Christian. 

It  is  one  of  the  great  misfortunes  of  Roman  literature 
that  the  works  of  its  chief  writers  are  used  as  textbooks  for 
schools,  a  misfortune  shared  to  some  extent  by  the  Greek. 
Yet  Homer  and  Xenophon,  \ergil  and  Cicero,  did  not  write 
for  children  or  callow  youth.     They  belong  to  Longfellow's 

grand  old  masters. 
Whose  mighty  thoughts  suggest 
Life's  endless  toil  and  endeavor, 

and  their  writings  have  no  relation  to  adolescence.  Yet  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  most  people  who  have  read  their  works 
remember  them  as  seen  through  the  cloudy  medium  of 
their  own  immaturity.  Byron  speaks  of  reading  and  hating 
Horace  as  a  schoolboy,  but  no  normal  person  can  hate 
Horace  any  more  than  he  can  hate  Washington  Irving.  It 
is  possible,  however,  that  pupils  who  have  to  read  Irving's 

[68] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

"Sketch  Book  "  with  the  fear  of  a  college  entrance  examina- 
tion before  their  minds  may  have  no  affection  even  for  him. 
So  some  of  us  may  have  something  to  unlearn  in  our  reading 
of  Vergil  and  Horace,  for  we  must  approach  their  works  as 
strong  meat  for  mature  minds.  Vergil's  theme  is  nothing  less 
than  the  glorification  of  the  Roman  state  through  its  divinely 
ordered  and  heroic  founding.  School  children  seldom  read 
more  than  the  six  books  of  the  "Aeneid  "  required  for  col- 
lege; but  the  other  six,  though  of  much  less  varied  interest, 
are  necessary  for  the  appreciation  of  the  poem.  The  whole 
is  a  work  that  no  one  can  afford  to  pass  over  in  his  search 
for  the  burning  words  that  keep  alive  the  thought  of  other 
ages.  Very  diiferent  in  theme  and  manner  is  the  poetry  of 
Horace.  He  is  the  most  modern  of  all  the  men  of  old,  far 
more  modern  than  our  own  Puritan  ancestors.  His  mixture 
of  grace  and  shrewdness,  poetic  charm  and  vs^orldly  wisdom, 
we  find  nowhere  else.  The  bulk  of  his  work  is  not  large, 
and  this  fact,  as  in  the  case  of  Gray  and  Keats  and  Poe,  is 
rather  in  his  favor,  because  the  reader  can  easily  become 
familiar  with  it  all,  though  then  he  will  sigh  for  more. 
Horace  wears  well ;  the  older  we  grow  the  better  we  like 
him.  He  has  love  songs  for  youth,  political  poems  for  ma- 
turity, and  satires  for  old  age.  After  we  have  lived  with  him 
for  half  a  century  he  becomes  more  real  to  us  than  most  of 
our  acquaintances  in  the  flesh.  Roman  literature  is  not 
without  other  great  names  to  attract  the  student ;  but  these 
two  must  not  be  overlooked  by  the  most  general  or  the 
most  selective  reader. 

W^ith  Vergil  the  world  always  associates  the  still  greater  fig- 
ure of  one  who  was  proud  to  call  him  master — that  of  Dante. 
More  than  is  true  of  almost  any  other  writer,  his  work  is  a 
compendium  of  the  life  of  his  time.  The  ' '  Divine  Comedy  " 
is  first  of  all  poetry,  and  poetry  of  the  loftiest  order;  but  it 

[69] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

is  also  an  embodiment  of  the  learning,  the  philosophy,  and 
the  theology  of  his  age.  It  mirrors  at  once  the  greatness 
and  the  limitations  of  the  medieval  mind,  Dante  is  not 
modern  in  the  sense  that  Horace  is,  though  he  is  thrice  as 
near  to  us  in  time.  Leigh  Hunt  said  that  his  great  poem 
ought  to  be  called  an  infernal  tragedy ;  but  that  is  true  only 
of  the  Inferno ;  the  spiritual  atmosphere  clears  as  we  follow 
his  footsteps  through  the  Purgatorio  and  the  Paradiso.  Of 
all  the  masterpieces  of  human  genius  the  "Divine  Comedy" 
is  perhaps  the  one  that  asks  the  most  self-surrender  of  the 
modern  reader  and  —  shall  I  add  ?  —  that  repays  it  most 
richly.  Longfellow's  marvelous  sonnet  sequence,  written 
while  he  was  translating  Dante,  portrays  at  once  the  spirit 
in  which  we  should  approach  the  reading  of  the  "Divine 
Comedy"  and  the  wonders  that  we  shall  find  there.  It  is  a 
book  that  we  never  can  outgrow.  To  know  it  is  to  be  made 
a  citizen  of  the  moral  universe. 

In  1616,  within  ten  days  of  each  other,  there  passed  from 
earth  two  men,  each  the  writer  first  thought  of  when  his 
country's  literature  is  mentioned,  and  one  of  them  the  first 
writer  in  the  world's  literature.  Cervantes  and  Shakespeare 
very  likely  died  in  ignorance  of  each  other's  work.  Stoddard 
has  depicted  them  in  Paradise, 

Where  sweet  Cervantes  walks, 

A.  smile  on  his  grave  face  .   .   . 
Where,  little  seen  but  light. 

The  only  Shakespeare  is. 

There  is  no  injustice  in  saying  that  Shakespeare's  nature 
included  that  of  Cervantes.  Not  so  inclusive  was  Dante's ; 
what  his  nature  most  lacked  we  find  in  the  author  of  * '  Don 
Quixote."  Yet  personally  they  are  equally  heroic  figures, 
and,  one  an  exile  and  the  other  a  slave,  both  drained  to  the 
dregs  the  cup  of  human  suffering.     Cervantes  has  several 

[70] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

great  advantages  over  most  of  the  world's  classic  writers: 
his  masterpiece  is  a  work  of  humor ;  it  is  written  in  a  simple 
and  graceful  style,  at  once  easy  and  winning;  and  it  is 
written  in  prose,  which,  after  all,  does  not  make  so  severe 
a  cultural  demand  on  the  reader  as  poetry.  For  these  very 
reasons  it  cannot  aspire  to  the  highest  rank,  but  what  it 
loses  in  fame  it  makes  up  in  popularity.  Though  in  a  few 
passages  it  is  not  parlor  reading,  "Don  Quixote"  is  one  of 
the  cleanest  of  all  the  world's  great  books.  It  is  not  merely 
technically  clean,  but  clean-minded.  It  has  the  form  of  a 
satire  on  chivalry,  but  its  meaning  goes  much  deeper.  It  is 
really  a  satire  on  a  more  persistent  weakness  of  the  Spanish 
character,  visionary  unrealism.  We  have  this  quality  held 
up  to  ridicule  in  the  learned  man  and  the  ignorant  man,  for 
Sancho  Panza  is  as  much  of  an  unrealist  as  his  master,  only 
he  is  a  groveling  visionary  while  Don  Quixote  is  a  soaring 
one.  This,  too,  is  a  book  that  one  does  not  outgrow,  but 
finds  it  a  perpetually  adequate  commentary  on  his  own 
widening  experience  of  men  and  their  motives. 

In  regard  to  the  supreme  figure  in  literature,  the  least 
thing  that  we  can  do  is  to  read  him,  and,  having  read  him, 
to  read  him  again  and  to  keep  his  volumes  next  to  our  hands. 
We  shall  hardly  read  Shakespeare  without  having  the  ques- 
tion of  commentators  come  up;  and  surely  Shakespeare 
deserves  all  the  attention  that  we  can  bestow  upon  him.  But 
the  general  reader  should  clearly  distinguish  between  the 
two  kinds  of  commentary  that  have  appeared  regarding 
Shakespeare,  the  one  having  to  do  with  his  text,  his  histori- 
cal accuracy,  and  his  use  of  words,  the  other  with  his  mean- 
ing. In  Hudson's  edition  these  two  kinds  of  notes  are  kept 
separate.  Surely  it  is  the  thought  of  Shakespeare  that  we 
want,  and  aot  the  pedantry  of  minute  scholarship  regarding 
his  material,  useful  as  that  is  in  its  place.    The  reader  who 

[7'] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

has  mastered  Hudson's  introductions  and  has  read  Dowden's 
"Shakspere:  His  Mind  and  Art  "  or  Brandes's  "Critical 
Study  "  will  have  all  that  he  will  ordinarily  need  in  the  way 
of  guidance.  But  remember  that  reading  about  Shakespeare 
is  not  reading  Shakespeare;  that  means,  for  the  time  at 
least,  self-surrender  to  Shakespeare's  leading.  Shakespeare 
is  perhaps  the  supreme  example  of  a  man  who  found  the 
world  interesting.  He  may  not  be  sympathetic  with  evil, 
but  he  finds  it  so  interesting  that  he  makes  us,  for  the  time 
being,  take  a  fratricidal  usurper  like  Hamlet's  uncle,  or  a 
gross,  sponging  braggart  like  Falstaff,  at  his  own  estimate. 
Shakespeare  is  never  shocked  at  anything  that  happens  in 
the  world ;  he  knows  the  world  too  well  for  that.  He  offends 
the  Puritan  in  us  by  his  indifference ;  he  is  therefore  prob- 
ably the  best  kind  of  reading  for  Puritans.  Shakespeare  is 
romantic  in  his  literary  methods,  but  in  his  portrayal  of 
character  he  is  an  unsurpassed  realist.  If  life  were  all 
thought  and  achievement,  Shakespeare  would  be  the  last 
word  in  literature;  but  there  is  another  side,  the  side  which 
the  Puritan  represents,  with  which  Shakespeare  is  but  im- 
perfectly sympathetic.  His  message  accordingly  needs  to  be 
supplemented ;  and  it  is  interesting  that  his  great  successor, 
the  man  who  still  stands  next  to  him  in  our  literature,  sup- 
plies that  missing  strain.  If  we  could  take  but  one  book 
with  us  into  banishment,  it  would  be  Shakespeare — thus 
proving  Shakespeare's  supremacy  by  Miss  Peggy  Heath's 
principle  of  elimination;  but  if  we  could  take  two,  that  sec- 
ond, I  am  frank  to  confess,  would  for  me  be  Milton. 

It  is  Milton's  literary  glory  that  he  appeared  in  the  second 
generation  following  Spenser  and  Shakespeare  —  he  was 
born  in  Shakespeare's  lifetime  —  and  carried  off  the  palm, 
which  he  still  keeps,  for  the  greatest  English  poem.  In 
spiritual  kinship   he   is   much   nearer   to    Spenser   than   to 

[7^] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

Shakespeare.  Shakespeare  hides  behind  his  pages;  his  per- 
sonaHty  makes  no  clear  or  at  least  ready  impression  upon 
us ;  but  the  colossal  personality  of  Milton  towers  above  all 
his  works.  He  is  Milton,  the  superman,  and  communion  with 
him  for  the  moment  lifts  us  to  something  like  his  own  level. 
In  this  personal  inspiration  lies  Milton's  greatest  service  to 
his  readers.  Over  and  above  the  poetic  delights,  of  which 
he  is  a  inaster  unsurpassed,  is  the  inspiration  that  comes 
from  the  man  behind  the  poetry;  or,  to  express  the  same 
thought  in  other  words,  above  the  organ  music  of  his  verse 
sounds  clear  and  far  the  trumpet  call  of  personality.  There- 
fore Milton  is  destined  to  inspire  generations  by  which  his 
theology  and  his  justification  of  the  ways  of  God  to  man  are 
swept  into  his  own  limbo  of  myth  and  delusion.  Fortu- 
nately Milton's  verse  is  not  appallingly  great  in  amount.  If 
we  cannot  hope  to  know  it  all  by  heart,  as  Macaulay  did,  we 
can  at  least  know  it  well  enough  to  recognize  any  quotation 
from  it,  and  rich  will  be  the  furnishing  of  our  minds  when 
we  have  made  this  true. 

In  our  beadroll  of  the  world's  greatest  writers  I  shall 
mention  only  one  more,  Goethe.  He  is  the  modern  man 
who  touched  life  most  widely,  penetratingly,  and  sanely. 
His  long  life  came  down  so  near  to  ours  that  many  of  us 
have  had  friends  who  were  in  childhood  or  infancy  his  con- 
temporaries. It  is  fair  to  say  that  since  his  death  the  world 
has  moved  much  nearer  to  his  mental  attitude  than  it  stood 
in  his  lifetime,  and  one  of  the  agencies  that  have  wrought 
the  change  is  the  living  force  of  his  own  works,  which  led 
and  still  lead  the  thought  of  men.  Goethe  may  be  called 
the  ideal  creative  critic  of  life.  He  held  up  a  mirror,  not  to 
Nature,  as  Shakespeare  did,  but  to  society;  and  society  can 
get  away  from  the  image  which  it  sees  reflected  there  only 
by  growing  away  from  it. 

[73] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

Here  let  us  close  our  list,  not  because  there  are  no  other 
great  writers  to  choose  from,  but  because  it  is  long  enough 
for  our  present  purposes,  and  because,  from  this  point  on, 
every  addition  is  open  to  challenge.  I  have  intentionally 
pitched  my  counsel  high ;  some  of  my  readers  may  feel  like 
calling  it  a  counsel  of  perfection;  but  according  to  my  way 
of  thinking,  no  writer  is  too  good  for  any  of  us  to  read. 
Moreover,  I  honestly  think  the  list  interesting.  It  is  not 
chiefly  reading  for  recreation,  but  for  soul  expansion,  and  it 
means  intellectual  effort.  Unless  we  wrestle  with  an  author 
as  Jacob  did  with  the  angel,  we  shall  not  receive  the  highest 
blessing.  But  some  one  may  plead  that,  while  he  does  not 
wish  to  read  wholly  for  amusement,  he  is  not  in  a  condition, 
either  from  training  or  circumstances,  to  engage  in  mental 
athletics.  He  cannot  apply  himself  to  an  author  as  he  recog- 
nizes that  the  greatest  writers  deserve ;  but  he  is  willing  to 
read  with  attention,  and  he  should  like  to  feel  that  what  he 
is  reading  is  good  literature.  This  is  a  reasonable  request, 
and,  out  of  countless  possible  responses,  I  will  make  one 
that  I  hope  may  prove  both  profitable  and  attractive. 

Let  us  set  out  with  the  recognition  of  the  fact  that  syste- 
matic reading  is  far  more  profitable  than  desultory  reading, 
even  on  the  same  literary  level.  One  excellent  way  to  achieve 
system  is  to  read  by  authors — to  make  the  author  a  study, 
in  his  writings  and  his  life.  To  read  Hawthorne's  "House 
of  the  Seven  Gables,"  for  instance;  is  to  drink  from  a  foun- 
tain of  the  purest  spiritual  delight ;  but  we  gain  an  additional 
delight,  even  if  of  a  lower  kind,  when  we  know  something 
of  Hawthorne's  life  and  his  relations  to  the  old  town  of 
Salem.  In  many  cases  it  is  necessary  to  know  the  author's 
life  in  order  really  to  understand  his  book.  Now  I  will 
suggest  the  reading,  not  merely  of  separate  authors,  but  of  a 
group.    There  are  many  such,  of  varying  degrees  of  great- 

[li] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

ness:  the  Elizabethan  group,  the  Lake  poets,  the  Byron- 
Shelley-Keats  group,  the  mid-nineteenth-century  British 
novelists,  to  go  no  further  than  writers  in  English.  But 
I  am  going  to  ask  your  interest  in  the  New  England  group 
of  authors  who  were  writing  fifty  years  ago.  They  comprise 
the  well-known  names  of  Emerson,  Hawthorne,  Longfellow, 
Whittier,  Holmes,  Thoreau,  and  Lowell.  Each  of  these  de- 
lightful writers  deserves  to  be  studied  for  his  own  sake,  but, 
if  we  take  them  as  a  group,  we  shall  gain  still  more  in  un- 
derstanding and  profit.  How  shall  we  approach  the  reading 
of  them  ?  They  obviously  cannot  all  be  read  at  once ;  so  let 
us  begin  with  any  one,  say  Hawthorne,  read  his  life  in  Mrs. 
Field's  brief  Beacon  Biography,  dipping  at  the^^same  time 
into  his  "Note-Books,  "  and  then  read  some  of  his  short 
stories  and  the  ' '  Scarlet  Letter. "  His  biography  will  already 
have  brought  us  into  contact  with  most  of  the  other  names, 
of  Longfellow,  his  college  classmate,  and  of  Emerson  and 
Thoreau,  his  neighbors  at  Concord.  We  may  read  the  Beacon 
Biography  of  Longfellow,  but  Higginson's  would  be  better, 
as  fuller  and  more  adequate.  We  may  first  read  Longfel- 
low's prose  works,  "Outre-Mer"  and  "Hyperion,"  and  then 
his  '  'Voices  of  the  Night,  "  besides  following  him  in  his  ' '  Life, 
with  Extracts  from  his  Journal  and  Correspondence,"  edited 
by  his  brother,  which  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  books. 
We  shall  do  well  to  read  each  author's  writings  in  chrono- 
logical succession;  so  they  will  stand  in  orderly  relation  with 
his  life.  Similarly  we  may  take  up  Emerson  first  in  Mr. 
Sanborn's  Beacon  Biography,  or  in  Dr.  Holmes's  larger 
but  still  handy  volume,  and  then  we  can  apply  ourselves 
with  better  understanding  to  Emerson's  essays  and  poems. 
I  particularly  mention  his  poems,  for  I  believe  that  Emer- 
son will  come  to  be  rated  higher  as  a  poet  than  he  has  yet 
been.    His  poetry  at  its  best  is  hardly  below  anyone's  best; 

[75] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

the  only  trouble  is  that  there  is  so  little  of  it ;  but  ultimately 
all  writers  are  judged  by  their  best.  In  the  same  way  we 
may  take  up  all  the  writers  of  the  group,  learning  something 
of  the  life  of  each  and  reading  some  of  his  works  before 
passing  on  to  another.  Let  me  especially  call  your  attention 
to  the  writings  of  Thoreau,  who  is  less  known  to  his  coun- 
trymen than  any  of  the  others.  He  is  a  writer  of  great  origi- 
nality and  freshness  of  view.  He,  too,  wrote  some  exquisite 
poetry,  worthy  of  any  name  in  literature;  but  you  will  have 
to  look  for  it  among  other  verse  that  has  more  originality 
than  charm.  Obviously  what  I  have  recommended  is  not 
the  work  of  one  year's  leisure,  but  the  protracted  delight  of 
many  years :  for  these  books  are  not  to  be  hurried  over  to 
get  to  the  end  of  the  chapter  or  to  see  how  they  are  coming 
out ;  neither  are  they  material  for  skipping.  They  are  to  be 
read  attentively  and  reread ;  and  if  one  or  another  fails  to 
make  a  strong  appeal  to  some  reader,  surely  he  cannot  fail 
to  find  in  most  of  them  a  source  of  lofty  pleasure  and  spir- 
itual enrichment.  One  fruit  that  we  may  expect  from  such 
reading  is  that  we  shall  find  ourselves  drawn  nearer  to  the 
supreme  masters  and  shall  end  by  surrendering  ourselves  to 
them.  To  know  our  New  England  group  is  not  indeed  to 
climb  the  Alps  of  literature,  but  it  is  at  least  to  climb  its 
White  Mountains.  Every  gain  will  be  a  fresh  incitement, 
and  those  who  at  the  start  join  the  literary  Appalachian  Club 
may  be  looked  for  some  day  in  the  ranks  of  the  Alpinists. 

A  word  on  the  reading  of  contemporary  writers ;  for  even 
our  second  list  did  not  bring  us  down  to  our  own  time.  We 
shall,  of  course,  read  our  contemporaries,  and  we  have  a 
right  to,  so  long  as  we  do  not  give  them  the  time  and  atten- 
tion that  clearly  belong  to  their  betters.  The  truth  is  that 
contemporaries — unless  they  are  contemporary  poets — have 
a  quite  unfair  advantage  over  their  elders,  our  own  in  time 

[76] 


THE  READER'S  HIGH  PRIVILEGE 

and  place  being  so  much  more  attractive  to  us  than  anything 
more  remote.  Still,  our  contemporaries  have  a  claim  upon 
us — even,  I  am  rash  enough  to  assert,  our  contemporary 
poets — for  they  have  a  message  that  their  predecessors  can- 
not give  us ;  it  may  not  be  the  most  important  message  for 
us,  but  it  is  a  message  of  value,  as  we  shall  see  if  we  re- 
turn to  De  Morgan  and  his  novels.  These  remarkable  books 
we  cannot  miss  without  losing  something  that  makes  our 
own  day  fine  and  precious  among  earth's  generations.  But 
in  this  respect  they  are  literally  chosen  from  ten  thousand, 
for  we  need  constantly  the  caution  that  the  near  carries  with 
it  an  appearance  of  importance  that  is  an  illusion ;  of  this 
truth  our  periodical  literature,  from  the  newspaper  up,  is  the 
illustrious  example,  and  the  lesson  is  all  summed  up  in  the 
one  phrase,  ' '  back  number."  Let  us  be  careful  that  in  heed- 
ing contemporary  voices  we  are  not  storing  our  minds  with 
the  contents  of  ' '  back  numbers."  True  literature  as  we  have 
seen,  never  becomes  out  of  date;  Homer  keeps  up  with  the 
telegraph. 

I  have  but  one  final  word,  which  has  been  provided  for 
me  by  Charles  Lamb,  who  says  in  his  inimitable  fashion: 
' '  I  own  that  I  am  disposed  to  say  grace  upon  twenty  other 
occasions  in  the  course  of  the  day  besides  my  dinner.  I 
want  a  form  for  setting  out  upon  a  pleasant  walk,  for  a 
moonlight  ramble,  for  a  friendly  meeting,  or  a  solved  prob- 
lem. Why  have  we  none  for  books,  those  spiritual  repasts 
—  a  grace  before  Milton  —  a  grace  before  Shakespeare — a 
devotional  exercise  proper  to  be  said,  before  reading  the 
Fairy  Queen?"  This  is  the  spirit  of  a  joyous  but  devoutly 
grateful  expectance,  in  which  I  would  have  myself  approach 
the  reading  of  a  great  book.  The  gratitude  I  surely  owe  the 
author,  for  there  is  no  great  book  but  has  come  like  refined 
gold  out  of  the  furnace  fire.    I  owe  it  also  to  the  Providence 

[77] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

which  has  granted  me  this  lofty  privilege.  Moreover,  it  is 
only  in  the  humility  born  of  such  an  attitude  that  I  can 
make  a  complete  approach  to  my  author  and  gain  that  up- 
lift and  enrichment  of  the  soul,  which — and  not  pastime 
nor  pleasure — is  the  true  end,  as  it  should  be  the  aim  of 
reading. 


[78] 


THE  BACKGROUND  OF  THE  BOOK 

NE  of  the  greatest  contributions  that 
modern  investigation  has  made  to  human 
knowledge  is  background.  It  was  once 
thought  a  remarkable  achievement  to  un- 
cover the  historic  background  of  miodern 

institutions,  and  this  was  all  that,  until 

lately,  scholarship  attempted.  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  confi- 
dently remarked  that  we  know  no  more  about  ancient  Britain 
than  the  old  writers  have  told  us,  nor  can  we  ever  know  any 
more  than  this.  Edward  Glodd  reminds  us  that  at  the  very 
time  when  the  great  oracle  voiced  this  assertion  discoveries 
had  already  been  made  in  England  that,  when  interpreted 
as  they  have  been  since,  were  to  make  the  landing  of  Caesar 
seem,  by  comparison,  a  contemporary  occurrence.  Now  this 
inconceivably  remote  prehistoric  era  furnishes  not  merely 
arrowheads  and  stone  chisels  and  burial  mounds,  but  also 
other  objects  that  are  the  background  of  that  "picture  of 
time"  of  which  the  book  of  to-day  is  the  foreground. 

Very  properly  these  are  objects  of  art,  and  they  afford  the 
earliest  illustrations  in  histories  of  art  as  they  do  in  histories 
of  the  book.  Thus  the  printer  who  questions  what  art  has 
to  do  with  his  business  stamps  himself  as  two  hundred 
thousand  years  behind  the  times.  They  are  pictures,  and  the 
book  of  to-day  has  descended  as  directly  from  them  as  the 
printer  of  to-day  has  descended  from  the  man  who  made 
them.  They  are,  moreover,  in  some  instances,  works  of 
very  high  art.    The  picture  of  the  mammoth,  scratched  on  a 

[79] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

fragment  of  the  mammoth's  tusk,  is  a  piece  of  drawing  so 
skillful  that  only  the  greatest  living  masters  can  equal  it. 
Not  even  Rembrandt's  drawing  of  the  elephant,  which  Dr. 
Holmes  celebrates  in  one  of  his  poems,  is  more  expressive 
or  wrought  with  more  economy  of  effort.  In  the  same  dis- 
trict of  southwestern  France,  Dordogne,  that  yielded  the 
drawings  are  found  long  cave  galleries  of  paintings  repre- 
senting the  creatures  of  that  period,  all  executed  with  great 
spirit  and  ability.  But  what  are  the  steps  in  the  descent 
from  these  ancient  pictures  to  the  printed  book? 

Primitive  man  had  one  more  string  to  his  conversational 
bow  than  most  civilized  people  have,  namely,  sign  language. 
But  gesture  and  speech  alike  prevail  but  little  against  space 
and  time.  Each  is  possible  only  at  short  range,  and  each 
dies  on  the  eye  or  ear  that  receives  it.  Pictures  may  be  car- 
ried to  any  distance  and  may  be  preserved  for  any  length  of 
time.  They  were  probably  made  first  in  response  to  an  in- 
stinct rather  for  art  than  for  the  communication  of  ideas ; 
but  their  great  advantage  for  communication  must  have  been 
perceived  very  early,  and,  as  we  find  picture  writing  em- 
ployed by  primitive  races  to-day,  we  have  the  right  to  infer 
that  prehistoric  peoples  at  the  same  stage  of  culture  also 
employed  it.  Pure  picture  writing,  however,  does  not  suffice 
for  all  that  men  have  to  say.  It  is  easy  to  represent  a  house, 
but  how  shall  we  represent  a  home?  It  is  easy  to  represent 
a  woman,  but  how  shall  we  add  the  idea  of  wife?  To  do 
this  we  must  pass  from  simple  pictures  to  symbols.  Chinese 
writing  has  never  advanced  beyond  this  stage.  Its  prodi- 
gious type-case  of  more  than  forty-two  thousand  characters 
contains,  therefore,  only  a  series  of  pictures,  direct  and 
symbolic,  all  highly  conventionalized,  but  recognizable  in 
their  earlier  forms.  To  represent  "wife"  the  Chinaman 
combines  the  two  signs   for  "woman"  and  "broom";  to 

[80] 


THE  BACKGROUND  OF  THE  BOOK 

represent  ' '  home"  he  makes  a  picture  of  a  pig  under  a  roof  I 
The  Egyptian  and  Mexican  systems  of  writing,  though  very 
dilferent  to  the  eye,  were  both  of  this  nature  and  represented 
ideas  rather  than  words.  Yet  all  true  alphabets,  which  are 
representations  of  sound,  have  been  derived  from  such  primi- 
tive ideograms  or  pictures  of  ideas.  What  was  the  process? 
The  rebus  is  the  bridge  from  the  writing  of  thoughts  to 
the  writing  of  sounds,  and  it  came  into  use  through  the  ne- 
cessity of  writing  proper  names.  Every  ancient  name,  like 
many  modern  ones,  had  a  meaning.  A  king's  name  might 
be  Wolf,  and  it  would  be  indicated  by  the  picture  of  a  wolf. 
Ordinardy  the  picture  would  be  named  by  everyone  who  saw 
it  according  to  his  language;  he  might  call  it  "wolf,"  or 
"lupus,"  or  "  lykos  " ;  but  when  it  meant  a  man's  name 
he  must  call  it  Wolf,  whatever  his  own  language.  So  such 
names  as  Long  Knife  and  Strong  Arm  would  be  represented, 
and  these  pictures  would  thus  be  associated  with  the  sound 
rather  than  the  thing.  By  and  by  it  was  found  convenient, 
where  the  word  had  several  syllables,  to  use  its  picture  to 
represent  the  sound  of  only  the  first  syllable,  and,  still  later, 
of  only  the  first  sound  or  letter.  Thus  the  Egyptian  symbol 
for  F  was  originally  a  picture  of  the  horned  asp,  later  it 
stood  for  the  Egyptian  name  of  this  venomous  creature,  and 
finally  for  the  first  sound  in  the  name,  being  used  as  the 
letter  F  itself;  and  the  reason  why  we  have  the  barred  cross- 
piece  in  the  F,  the  two  horns  in  U,  V,  and  Y,  and  the  four 
in  W  (^  V)  is  because  the  Egyptian  asp  had  two  horns,  as 
may  be  seen  from  the  illustration  in  the  Century  Dictionary 
under  the  word  cerastes  ;  and  every  time  that  we  write  one  of 
these  letters  we  are  making  a  faded  copy  of  the  old  picture. 
We  find  systems  of  writing  in  all  the  stages  from  pure  pic- 
tures to  the  phonetic  alphabet;  in  Egyptian  hieroglyphics 
we  find  a  mixture  of  all  the  stages.    So  much  for  the  back- 

[8i] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

ground  of  the  book  as  the  bringer  of  a  message  to  the  eye, 
but  the  outward  form  or  wrapping  of  that  message  has  also 
a  long  and  interesting  history. 

No  objects  could  be  much  more  unlike  than  a  Babylonian 
tablet,  an  Egyptian  papyrus  roll,  and  a  Mexican  book.  They 
are  as  different  as  a  brick,  a  narrow  window-shade,  and  a 
lady's  fan ;  they  have  nothing  common  in  their  development, 
yet  they  were  used  for  the  same  purpose  and  might  bring 
identically  the  same  message  to  the  mind.  Inwardly,  as  re- 
gards writing  or  printing,  all  books  have  a  parallel  develop- 
ment; but  outwardly,  in  their  material  and  its  form,  they 
are  the  results  of  local  conditions.  In  Babylonia,  which 
was  a  fertile  river-bottom,  bricks  were  the  only  building 
material,  and  clay  was  therefore  a  familiar  substance.  Noth- 
ing was  more  natural  than  that  the  Babylonian  should  scratch 
his  record  or  message  on  a  little  pat  of  clay,  which  he  could 
afterwards  bake  and  render  permanent.  Some  day  all  other 
books  in  the  world  will  have  crumbled  into  dust,  their  rec- 
ords being  saved  only  when  reproduced ;  but  at  that  remote 
time  there  will  still  exist  Babylonian  books,  even  now  five 
thousand  years  old,  apparently  no  nearer  destruction  than 
when  they  were  first  made. 

The  Babylonian  book  carried  its  message  all  on  the  out- 
side ;  the  Egyptian  book  went  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and 
we  should  find  our  chief  objection  to  it  in  the  difficulty  of 
getting  readily  at  its  contents.  There  flourished  on  the  banks 
of  the  Nile  a  stout  reed,  six  feet  high,  called  by  the  Egyp- 
tians "p-apa"  and  by  the  Greeks  "papyros"  or  "byblos." 
It  was  the  great  source  of  raw  material  for  Egyptian  manu- 
factures. Its  tufted  head  was  used  for  garlands ;  its  woody 
root  for  various  purposes;  its  tough  rind  for  ropes,  shoes, 
and  similar  articles  —  the  basket  of  Moses,  for  instance; 
and  its  cellular  pith   for   a   surface   to  write   on.     As  the 

[82] 


THE  BACKGROUND  OF  THE  BOOK 

stem  was  jointed,  the  pith  came  in  lengths,  the  best  from 
eight  to  ten  inches .  These  lengths  were  sliced  through  from 
top  to  bottom,  and  the  thin  slices  laid  side  by  side.  Another 
layer  was  pasted  crosswise  above  these,  the  whole  pressed, 
dried  in  the  sun,  and  rubbed  smooth,  thus  giving  a  single 
sheet  of  papyrus.  As  the  grain  ran  differently  on  the  two 
surfaces  of  the  papyrus  sheet,  only  one  side  was  written  on. 
Other  sheets  were  added  to  this  by  pasting  them  edge  to 
edge  until  enough  for  a  roll  had  been  made,  usually  twenty, 
a  roller  being  fastened  to  the  last  edge  and  a  protecting  strip 
of  wood  to  the  front.  The  manuscript  was  unrolled  by  the 
right  hand  and  rolled  up  by  the  left.  It  is  obvious  that  a  book 
of  reference  in  this  form  would  be  subjected  to  great  wear. 
In  our  dictionaries  it  is  as  easy  to  And  Z  as  A ;  but  in  a  papy- 
rus book,  to  find  the  end  meant  to  unroll  the  whole.  The 
Latin  word  for  roll  was  "volumen,"  hence  our  "volume." 
A  long  work  could  obviously  not  be  produced  conveniently 
in  a  single  roll,  therefore  Homer's  "Iliad"  and  "Odyssey," 
for  instance,  were  each  divided  into  twenty-four  books,  and 
that  is  why  the  divisions  of  an  epic  poem  are  still  called 
books,  though  they  are  really  chapters.  The  rolls  compos- 
ing a  single  work  were  kept  together  in  a  case  something 
like  a  bandbox.  The  roll  was  the  book  form  of  the  Greek 
and  Roman  as  well  as  the  Egyptian  world,  but  it  left  no 
descendants.  Our  book  form  was  derived  from  a  different 
source,  which  we  will  now  consider. 

Just  as  we  speak  of  Russia  leather,  so  the  ancients  spoke 
of  Pergamum  skins,  or  parchment.  The  story  is  that  Eu- 
menes  II,  King  of  Pergamum,  a  city  of  Asia  Minor,  tried  to 
build  up  a  library  rivaling  that  of  Alexandria,  and  the  Ptole- 
mies, seeking  to  thwart  him,  forbade  the  export  of  papyrus 
from  Egypt.  Eumenes,  however,  developed  the  manufac- 
ture of  Pergamum  skin,  or  parchment,  or  vellum,  which 

[83] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

not  only  enabled  him  to  go  on  with  his  library,  but  also  in- 
cidentally changed  the  whole  character  of  the  book  for  future 
ages.  This  material  is  not  only  much  more  serviceable  than 
the  fragile  papyrus,  but,  being  tough  enough  to  stand  fold- 
ing and  sewing,  permitted  the  book  to  be  made  in  its  pres- 
ent or  codex  form,  the  original  codex  being  two  or  three 
Roman  waxed  tablets  of  wood,  fastened  together  like  hinged 
slates,  and  thus  opening  very  crudely  in  the  manner  of  our 
books.  This  development  of  parchment  occurred  in  the  first 
half  of  the  second  century  before  Christ.  The  new  material 
and  book  form  gradually  made  their  way  into  favor  and 
came  to  constitute  the  book  of  the  early  Christian  and  me- 
dieval world.  Though  paper  was  introduced  into  Europe 
soon  after  the  year  seven  hundred,  it  did  not  displace  parch- 
ment until  the  invention  of  printing  called  for  a  material  of 
its  cheaper  and  more  adaptable  character. 

But,  though  we  have  traced  the  origin  of  our  present 
book  form,  we  have  not  yet  filled  in  the  background  of  its 
history.  Several  other  notable  types  of  the  book  deserve  our 
attention;  first  of  all  that  of  China,  one  of  the  most  attrac- 
tive of  all  book  forms,  to  which  we  devote  our  next  chapter. 
Though  it  superficially  resembles  our  own  books,  it  is  really 
the  product  of  a  different  line  of  evolution.  When  we  ex- 
amine it  closely,  we  find  that  in  many  respects  it  is  the  exact 
reverse  of  our  practice.  It  is  printed  on  only  one  side  of  the 
paper;  it  is  trimmed  at  the  back  and  folded  on  the  fore  edge; 
its  wide  margin  is  at  the  top ;  its  running  headline  is  on  the 
folded  fore  edge;  its  sewing  is  on  the  outside;  its  binding 
is  limp;  its  lines  run  up  and  down  the  page;  and  its  pages, 
according  to  Western  ideas,  open  from  the  back  towards  the 
front.  Yet  it  is  a  thing  of  beauty,  and  let  us  hope  that  noth- 
ing in  the  modern  reorganization  of  China  will  change  its 
character  to  prevent  it  from  remaining  a  joy  forever. 

[84] 


THE  BACKGROUND  OF  THE  BOOK 

Just  as  Chinese  paper  is  made  from  bamboo,  which  plays 
an  even  greater  part  in  China  than  papyrus  did  in  Egypt,  so 
the  book  of  India  utihzes  the  leaves  of  that  important  tropi- 
cal tree,  the  palm.  The  sheets  of  the  book  before  me  are 
strips  of  palm-leaf  two  inches  wide  and  two  feet  long.  They 
are  written  on  both  sides  and,  following  the  run  of  the 
grain,  lengthwise.  This  makes  an  inordinate  length  of  line, 
but,  ovvmg  to  the  small  number  of  lines  on  the  page,  the 
confusion  of  the  eye  is  less  than  might  be  expected.  The 
leaves  composing  the  book  are  clamped  between  two  boards 
of  their  own  size,  the  block  thus  formed  is  pierced  with  two 
holes,  through  which  pins  are  thrust,  and  the  whole  is 
wound  with  a  cord.  The  dimensions  vary,  some  books  being 
larger  and  some  much  smaller.  I  have  also  before  me 
a  Burmese  booklet  in  which  the  leaves  are  one  inch  wide 
and  six  inches  long.  Sometimes  the  sheets  are  of  brass, 
beautifully  lacquered,  and  the  writing  heavy  and  highly 
decorative.  These  books  also  vary  greatly  in  size,  some 
forming  truly  massive  and  sumptuous  volumes.  Birch  bark 
was  also  employed  as  a  book  material  in  India,  being  used 
in  what  we  should  call  quarto  sheets,  and  in  Farther  India 
a  peculiar  roll  is  in  use,  made  of  Chinese  paper,  folded  at 
the  side,  sewed  at  the  top,  and  rolled  up  like  a  manifold 
banner  in  a  cover  of  orange-colored  or  brown  cotton  cloth. 

We  do  not  ordinarily  associate  books  with  pre-Columbian 
America ;  yet  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  all  book  forms 
was  current  in  Mexico  before  the  Conquest.  As  in  the  case 
of  the  Chinese  book,  it  looks  superficially  like  ours ;  we 
think  it  is  a  tiny  quarto  until  we  see  that  its  measure  is 
rather  that  of  an  oblong  twenty-fourmo ;  that  is,  its  dimen- 
sions are  just  scant  of  five  inches  high  and  six  inches  wide. 
It  has  thin  wooden  covers  and  is,  over  all,  an  inch  thick; 
but  between  these  covers  is  a  strip  of  deerskin  twenty-nine 

[85] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

feet  long  and,  of  course,  nearly  five  inches  wide.  This  is 
folded  in  screen  or  fan  fashion,  the  first  and  last  leaves  being 
pasted  to  the  inside  of  the  covers.  This  attachment  is  really 
the  only  binding ;  the  whole  strip  is  capable  of  being  opened 
up  to  its  full  length.  It  is  read — by  those  who  can  read  its 
vividly  colored  hieroglyphics  —  by  holding  it  like  a  modern 
book,  turning  the  leaves  until  what  seems  the  end  is  reached, 
and  then  turning  the  cover  for  the  next  leaf,  and  continuing 
to  turn  until  the  first  cover  is  reached  again,  but  from  the 
other  side.  Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  there  is  a  book  of 
India  which  is  almost  identical  in  structure  with  the  ancient 
Mexican  book.  It  has  the  shape  of  the  palm-leaf  book,  but 
it  is  made  of  heavy  paper,  blackened  to  be  written  on  with 
a  chalk  pencil,  and  it  opens  like  a  fan  exactly  in  the  Mexican 
fashion.  Each  cover  is  formed  by  a  double  fold  of  paper,  and 
the  writing  runs  lengthwise  of  the  page  as  in  the  palm-leaf 
volume.  As  the  writing  can  be  erased,  the  book  serves  the 
purpose  of  a  slate. 

The  variety  of  objects  that  men  have  used  to  write  upon 
almost  surpasses  imagination,  ranging  from  mountain  walls 
to  the  ivory  shoulders  of  Rider  Haggard's  heroine  in  his 
"Mr.  Meeson's  Will."  Such  unusual,  if  actual,  writing  ma- 
terials belong,  perhaps,  rather  to  the  penumbra  than  to  the 
background  of  the  book;  but,  as  a  final  survey  of  our  sub- 
ject, running  back  to  the  time  when  there  were  no  books 
and  men  must  rely  upon  their  memories,  we  may  quote 
what  Lane  says  of  the  sources  from  which  the  Kuran  was 
derived  after  the  death  of  Mohammed :  "  So  Zeyd  gathered 
the  Kuran  from  palm-leaves,  skins,  shoulder-blades  (of 
beasts),  stones,  and  the  hearts  of  men." 


[86] 


THE  CHINESE  BOOK 


HE  naturalist,  Lloyd  Morgan,  in  one  of  his 
lectures  threw  together  on  the  screen  pic- 
tures of  a  humming  bird  and  an  insect  of 
the  same  size,  the  two  looking  so  much 
alike  as  to  seem  to  the  casual  observer  to 
'X9jy/fl< ^^^o^WjTy  belong  to  the  same  order.  Yet  they  are 
anatomically  far  more  different  than  the  man  and  the  fish. 
In  much  the  same  way  we  may  be  led  to  suppose  that  a 
Chinese  book  and  an  occidental  paper-bound  book  are  much 
the  same  thing  in  origin  as  they  are  to  the  eye.  But  here  too 
the  likeness  is  only  apparent.  One  book  form  has  descended 
from  a  block  of  wood  and  the  other  from  a  fold  of  silk. 

The  Chinese  book  is  such  a  triumph  of  simplicity,  cheap- 
ness, lightness,  and  durability  that  it  deserves  a  more  careful 
study  at  the  hands  of  our  book  producers  than  it  has  yet 
received.  In  fact  we  do  not  see  why  books  made  on  nearly 
these  lines  should  not  be  an  attractive  and  popular  innova- 
tion in  our  book  trade.  Approaches,  to  be  sure,  have  been 
made  to  this  peculiar  book  form,  but  they  have  been  partial 
imitations,  not  consistent  reproductions.  In  an  illustrated 
edition  of  Longfellow's  "Michael  Angelo,  "  published  in 
1 885,  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company  produced  a  small 
folio,  the  binding  of  which  is  obviously  patterned  after  that 
of  a  Chinese  book.  But  the  printing  is  on  every  page,  and 
the  paper  is  so  stiff  that  the  book  will  not  lie  open.  In  the 
holiday  edition  which  the  same  publishers  issued  in  1896 
of    Aldrich's    poem,    entitled    "Friar    Jerome's    Beautiful 

[87] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

Book,"  they  produced  a  volume  in  which  the  front  folds 
were  not  intended  to  be  cut  open ;  but  they  outdid  the 
Chinese  by  printing  on  only  one  of  the  pages  exposed  at 
each  opening  of  the  book,  instead  of  on  both,  as  the  Chinese 
do,  thus  utilizing  only  one-fourth  of  the  possible  printing 
surface  of  the  volume.  In  this  case  again  the  paper  was  stiff 
and  the  binding  was  full  leather  with  heavy  tapes  for  tying. 
A  much  closer  approach  to  the  Chinese  book  form  was  af- 
forded by  "The  Periodical,"  issued  by  Henry  Frowde,  in 
the  form  which  it  bore  at  first.  Here  we  have  what  may 
fairly  be  called  a  naturalization  of  the  Chinese  book  idea  in 
the  Occident.  But  let  us  see  exactly  what  that  Chinese  book 
form  is. 

The  standard  book  is  printed  from  engraved  wood  blocks, 
each  of  which  is  engraved  on  the  side  of  the  board,  not  on 
the  end  like  our  wood  blocks,  and  for  economy  is  engraved 
on  both  its  sides.  Each  of  these  surfaces  prints  one  sheet 
of  paper,  making  two  pages.  The  paper,  being  unsized,  is 
printed  on  only  one  side,  and  the  fold  is  not  at  the  back,  as 
in  our  books,  but  at  the  front.  The  running  headline,  as  we 
should  call  it,  with  the  page  number,  is  printed  in  a  central 
column,  which  is  folded  through  when  the  book  is  bound, 
coming  half  on  one  page  and  half  on  the  other.  There  is 
always  printed  in  this  column  a  fan-shaped  device,  called 
the  fish's  tail,  whose  notch  indicates  where  the  fold  is  to 
come.  It  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that  the  Chinese  book 
begins  on  what  to  us  is  the  last  page,  and  that  the  lines  read 
from  top  to  bottom  and  follow  one  another  from  right  to  left. 
Each  page  has  a  double  ruled  line  at  top  and  bottom  and 
on  the  inner  edge.  The  top  and  bottom  lines  and  the  fish's 
tall,  being  printed  across  the  front  fold,  show  as  black  lines 
banding  the  front  edge  when  the  book  is  bound.  The  bottom 
line  is  taken  by  the  binder  as  his  guide  in  arranging  the 

[88] 


THE  CHINESE  BOOK 

sheets,  this  Hne  always  appearing  true  on  the  front  edge  and 
the  others  blurred.  The  top  margin  has  more  than  twice 
the  breadth  of  the  lower.  After  the  sheets  are  gathered, 
holes  are  punched  at  proper  distances  from  the  back  edge 
—  four  seems  to  be  the  regulation  number  whether  the  book 
be  large  or  small,  but  large  books  have  an  extra  hole  at  top 
and  bottom  towards  the  corner  from  the  last  hole.  These 
holes  are  then  plugged  with  rolls  of  paper  to  keep  the  sheets 
in  position,  and  the  top,  bottom,  and  back  edges  are  shaved 
with  a  sharp,  heavy  knife,  fifty  or  more  volumes  being 
trimmed  at  the  same  stroke.  A  piece  of  silk  is  pasted  over 
the  upper  and  lower  corners  of  the  back.  Covers,  consist- 
ing of  two  sheets  of  colored  paper  folded  in  front  like  the 
pages,  are  placed  at  front  and  back,  but  not  covering  the 
back  edge,  or  there  is  an  outer  sheet  of  colored  paper  with 
inside  lining  paper  and  a  leaf  of  heavy  paper  between  for 
stiffening.  Silk  cord  is  sewn  through  the  holes  and  neatly 
tied,  and  the  book  is  done  —  light  in  the  hand  and  lying 
open  well,  inexpensive  and  capable  with  proper  treatment 
of  lasting  for  centuries. 

What  are  the  chief  defects  of  the  Chinese  book  from  an 
occidental  point  of  view?  The  most  obvious  is  that  it  will 
not  stand  alone.  Another  is  that  its  covers,  being  soft,  are 
easily  crumpled  and  dog's-eared.  A  third  is  that  it  is  printed 
on  only  one  side  of  the  paper  and  therefore  wastes  space. 
All  these  objections  must  be  admitted,  but  it  may  be  urged 
with  truth  that  our  books,  in  spite  of  their  relatively  costly 
binding,  do  not  stand  alone  any  too  well,  and  in  fact  this 
is  a  function  seldom  asked  of  books  anyway.  Its  covers  are 
soft,  but  this  means  at  least  that  they  are  not  so  hard  and 
foreign  to  the  material  of  the  book  as  to  tear  themselves  off 
after  a  dozen  readings,  as  is  the  case  with  so  many  of  our 
bindings.     There  is  no  danger  of  breaking  the  back  of  a 

[89] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

Chinese  book  on  first  opening  it,  for  it  has  no  lining  of  hard 
glue.  As  to  the  utilization  of  only  one  side  of  the  paper,  it 
must  be  remembered  that  the  Chinese  paper  is  very  thin, 
and  that  this  practice  makes  it  possible  to  secure  the  advan- 
tage of  opacity  without  loading  the  paper  with  a  foreign  and 
heavy  material.  Moreover,  the  thickness  of  the  pasteboard 
cover  is  saved  on  the  shelves,  and  even  if  a  substitute  for  it 
is  adopted,  it  is  in  the  form  of  a  light  pasteboard  case  that 
holds  several  volumes  at  once.  Such  a  cover  is  capable  of 
being  lettered  on  the  back,  though  the  Chinese  seem  not 
to  think  this  necessary,  but  put  their  title  labels  on  the  side. 
Really,  the  back  of  the  Chinese  book  is  to  us  its  most  for- 
eign feature.  It  is  a  raw  edge,  not  protected  by  the  cover, 
and  differs  from  the  front  only  in  consisting  of  the  edges  of 
single  leaves  instead  of  folds.  It  is  in  fact  a  survival  from 
the  days  before  the  invention  of  paper,  when  books  were 
printed  on  silk,  the  raw  edge  of  which  would  fray  and  was 
therefore  consigned  to  the  position  where  it  would  have  the 
least  wear  and  would  do  the  least  harm  if  worn. 

But  there  is  no  reason  why,  in  Europeanizing  the  Chinese 
book,  the  corner  guard  should  not  be  extended  the  whole 
length  of  the  back  and  bear  the  ordinary  lettering.  With 
this  slight  difference  the  Chinese  book  would  be  equipped 
to  enter  the  lists  on  fairly  even  terms  against  the  prevailing 
occidental  type  of  book,  which  has  come  down  to  us  from 
tlie  ancient  Roman  codex  through  the  parchment  book,  of 
which  ours  is  only  a  paper  imitation.  In  "The  Periodical," 
referred  to,  four  pages  instead  of  two  were  printed  at  once, 
or,  at  least,  four  constitute  a  fold.  The  sheets  are  stitched 
through  with  thread  —  they  might,  of  course,  have  been 
wire-stitched — and  then  a  paper  cover  is  pasted  on,  as  in 
the  case  of  any  magazine  or  paper-bound  book.  But  in  this 
process  the  beauty  of  the  Chinese  binding  disappears,  though 

[90] 


THE  CHINESE  BOOK 

the  Chinese  do  the  same  with  their  cheapest  pamphlets.  In 
these  days,  when  Hghtness  and  easy  handling  are  such  popu- 
lar features  in  books,  what  publisher  will  take  up  the  book 
form  that  for  two  thousand  years  has  enshrined  the  wisdom 
of  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  and  by  trifling  adaptations  here 
and  there  make  it  his  own  and  oursl^ 


[9«] 


THICK  PAPER  AND  THIN 


IR  HIRAM  MAXIM,  the  knight  from  Maine, 
prophesies  that  we  shall  change  our  reU- 
gion  twenty  times  in  the  next  twenty  thou- 
sand years.  In  the  last  two  thousand  years 
we  have  changed  our  book  material  twice, 
from  papyrus  to  parchment  and  from 
parchment  to  paper,  with  a  consequent  change  of  the  book 
form  from  the  roll  to  the  codex.  Shall  we  therefore  change 
our  book  material  twenty  times  in  the  next  twenty  thousand 
years  ?  Only  time  itself  can  tell ;  but  for  five  hundred  years 
the  book  has  never  been  in  such  unstable  equilibrium  as  at 
present;  the  proverb  "A  book's  a  book"  has  never  pos- 
sessed so  little  definite  meaning.  This  condition  applies 
chiefly  to  the  paper,  but  as  this  changes,  the  binding  will 
also  change  from  its  present  costly  and  impermanent  char- 
acter to  something  at  once  cheaper  and  more  durable. 

The  changes  in  modern  paper  have  worked  in  two  oppo- 
site directions,  represented  on  the  one  hand  by  Oxford  India 
paper,  with  its  miraculous  thinness,  opacity,  and  lightness, 
and  on  the  other  hand  by  papers  that,  while  also  remarkably 
light,  offer,  as  a  sample  book  expresses  it,  "excellent  bulk"; 
for  instance,  272  pages  to  an  inch  as  against  i5oo  to  an  inch 
of  Oxford  India  paper.'    The  contrasted  effects  of  these  two 


^  Mr.  Edison's  projected  substitute  for  paper,  sheets  of  nickel,  ao.ooo  to  the  inch, 
may  indicate  the  book,  material  of  the  future,  but  at  present  it  is  only  a  startling 
possibility. 


THICK  PAPER  AND  THIN 

types  of  material  upon  the  book  as  a  mechanical  product  are 
well  worth  the  consideration  of  all  who  are  engaged  in  the 
making  of  books. 

Some  of  these  results  are  surprising.  What,  for  instance, 
could  be  more  illogical  than  to  make  a  book  any  thicker 
than  strength  and  convenience  require?  Yet  one  has  only  to 
step  out  into  the  markets  where  books  and  buyers  meet  to 
find  a  real  demand  for  this  excess  of  bulk.  Though  illogical, 
the  demand  for  size  in  books  is  profoundly  psychological 
and  goes  back  to  the  most  primitive  instincts  of  human  na- 
ture. The  first  of  all  organs  in  biological  development,  the 
stomach,  will  not  do  its  work  properly  unless  it  has  quantity 
as  well  as  quality  to  deal  with.  So  the  eye  has  established 
a  certain  sense  of  relationship  between  size  and  value,  and 
every  publisher  knows  that  in  printing  from  given  plates  he 
can  get  twice  as  much  for  the  book  at  a  trifling  excess  of  cost 
if  he  uses  thicker  paper  and  gives  wider  margins.  That  all 
publishers  do  not  follow  these  lines  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
other  elements  enter  into  the  total  field  of  bookselling  be- 
sides quantity,  the  chief  of  which  is  cost,  and  another  of 
which,  growing  in  importance,  is  compactness.  But  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  to  the  buyer  who  is  not,  for  the  moment  at 
least,  counting  the  cost,  mere  bulk  makes  as  great  an  appeal 
as  any  single  element  of  attractiveness  in  the  sum  total  of 
a  book. 

This  attraction  of  bulk  receives  a  striking  increase  if  it 
is  associated  with  lightness.  The  customer  who  takes  up 
a  large  book  and  suddenly  finds  it  light  to  hold  receives  a 
pleasurable  shock  which  goes  far  towards  making  him  a 
purchaser.  He  seems  not  to  ask  or  care  whether  he  may  be 
getting  few  pages  for  his  money.  The  presence  of  this  single, 
agreeable  element  of  lightness  at  once  gives  a  distinction  to 
the  book  that  appears  to  supplant  all  other  requirements. 

[93] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

The  purchaser  does  not  reaHze  that  the  same  hghtness  of 
volume  associated  with  half  the  thickness  would  not  seem 
to  him  remarkable,  though  the  book  would  take  up  only 
half  the  room  on  his  shelves.  He  feels  that  a  modern 
miracle  in  defiance  of  gravitation  has  been  wrought  in 
his  favor,  and  he  is  willing  to  pay  for  the  privilege  of 
enjoying  it. 

Curiously  and  somewhat  unexpectedly  the  results  of 
neither  extreme,  thick  paper  nor  thin,  are  wholly  satisfactory 
in  the  library.  The  parvenu,  who  is  looking  only  to  the 
filling  up  of  his  shelves  with  volumes  of  impressive  size, 
may  find  satisfaction  in  contemplating  wide  backs.  But  the 
scholar  and  the  public  librarian  will  grudge  the  space  which 
this  "  excellent  bulk  "  occupies.  One  single  element  in  their 
favor  he  will  be  quick  to  recognize,  the  better  space  which 
they  afford  for  distinct  lettering.  In  a  private  library  that  is 
collected  for  use  and  not  for  show  the  thin-paper  books  are 
almost  an  unmixed  blessing.  They  cost  little  for  what  they 
contain.  Their  reduction  in  thickness  is  often  associated 
with  a  reduction  in  height  and  width,  so  that  they  repre- 
sent an  economy  of  space  all  round.  A  first-rate  example  of 
this  is  furnished  by  the  Oxford  India  Paper  Dickens,  in 
seventeen  volumes,  printed  in  large  type,  yet,  as  bound, 
occupying  a  cubical  space  of  only  1 3  by  7  by  41  inches  and 
weighing  only  nine  pounds.  A  more  startling  instance  is 
that  of  the  novels  of  Thomas  Love  Peacock,  which  arc  issued 
in  a  pretty  library  edition  of  ten  volumes.  But  they  are  also 
issued  in  a  single  volume,  no  higher  nor  wider,  and  only 
three-fourths  of  an  inch  thick.  But  it  is  at  this  point  that  the 
public  librarian  rises  to  protest.  It  is  all  very  well,  he  says, 
for  the  private  owner  to  have  his  literature  in  this  concen- 
trated form,  but  for  himself,  how  is  he  to  satisfy  the  eight 
readers  who  call  for  "  Headlong  Hall,"  "Nightmare  Abbey," 

[94] 


THICK  PAPER  AND  THIN 

and  the  rest  of  Peacock's  novels  all  at  once?  To  be  sure  he 
can  buy  and  catalogue  eight  single-volume  sets  of  the 
author's  works  instead  of  one  set  in  ten  volumes,  and  when 
he  has  done  this  each  reader  will  be  sure  to  find  the  particu- 
lar novel  that  he  is  looking  for  so  long  as  a  set  remains ;  but 
the  cost  will  naturally  be  greater.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
welcomes  equally  with  the  private  buyer  the  thin-paper  edi- 
tion of  the  Shakespeare  Apocrypha,  which  needs  only  a  third 
of  the  shelf  space  required  for  the  regular  edition,  seven- 
sixteenths  of  an  inch  as  against  an  inch  and  five-sixteenths. 
He  also  looks  upon  his  magazine  shelves  and  sees  a  volume 
of  the  "  Hibbert  Journal"  with  966  pages  in  large  type  oc- 
cupying the  space  of  a  volume  of  the  "Independent  "  with 
1788  pages  in  fine  type,  or  again  he  sees  by  the  side  of  his 
thin-paper  edition  of  Dickens  another  on  heavy  paper  occu- 
pying more  than  three  times  the  lineal  space  with  no  ad- 
vantage in  clearness  of  type.  By  this  time  he  is  ready  to 
vote,  in  spite  of  the  occasional  disability  of  overcompactness, 
for  the  book  material  that  will  put  the  least  strain  upon 
his  crowded  shelves.  A  conference  with  the  booksellers 
shows  him  that  he  is  not  alone  in  this  conclusion.  Certain 
standard  works,  like  the  Oxford  Book  of  English  Verse  and 
Webster's  Collegiate  Dictionary,  have  almost  ceased  to  be 
sold  in  any  but  the  thin-paper  editions.  Then  there  dawns 
upon  him  the  vision  of  a  library  in  which  all  books  that 
have  won  their  way  into  recognition  shall  be  clothed  in 
this  garb  of  conciseness,  and  in  which  all  that  aspire  to  that 
rank  shall  follow  their  example.  In  short  he  sees  what  he 
believes  to  be  the  book  of  the  future,  which  will  be  as  differ- 
ent from  the  book  of  the  present  as  that  is  from  the  parch- 
ment book  of  the  early  and  middle  ages  of  the  Christian  era, 
and  as  different  in  binding  as  it  is  in  material.  The  realiza- 
tion of  this  vision  will  involve  first  of  all  a  readjustment  of 

[95] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

values  on  the  part  of  the  public,  an  outgrowing  of  its  childish 
admiration  for  bulk.  But  this  change  is  coming  so  rapidly 
under  the  stress  of  modern  conditions  of  crowding,  espe- 
cially in  city  life,  as  to  reduce  the  vision  from  its  prophetic 
rank  to  a  case  of  mere  foresight. 


[96] 


THE  CLOTHING  OF  A  BOOK 


HE  binding  of  a  book  is  its  most  conspicu- 
ous feature,  the  part  which  forms  its  in- 
troduction to  the  pubHc  and  by  which  too 
often  it  is  judged  and  valued ;  yet  the  bind- 
ing is  not  an  integral  portion  of  the  vol- 
ume. It  may  be  changed  many  times 
without  essentially  changing  the  book;  but  if  the  printed 
pages  are  changed,  even  for  others  identical  to  the  eye,  the 
book  becomes  another  copy.  The  binding  is,  therefore,  a 
part  of  a  book's  environment,  though  the  most  intimate  part, 
like  our  own  clothing,  to  which,  indeed,  it  bears  a  curious 
resemblance  in  its  purpose  and  its  perversions. 

Human  clothing  is  for  protection  and  adornment.  That 
of  a  book  involves  two  other  demands  mutually  so  contra- 
dictory that  bookbinding  has  always  offered  a  most  attractive 
challenge  to  the  skill  of  the  handicraftsman.  The  first  de- 
mand is  that  the  book  when  closed  shall  form  a  well-squared 
and  virtually  solid  block,  like  the  rectangle  of  wood  from 
which  its  first  predecessors  were  split,  and  shall  be  able 
to  stand  alone,  unsupported.  The  second  demand  is  that 
this  same  object,  when  open,  shall  lie  flat  at  any  point  and 
display  all  its  leaves  in  turn  as  fully,  and  far  more  con- 
veniently, than  if  they  had  never  been  fastened  together. 
Whatever  may  be  true  of  other  clothing,  it  is  eminently 
true  of  a  book's  that  the  part  which  really  counts  is  the  part 
which  is  never  seen.  Only  the  ornamental  portion  of  a 
book's  covering  is  exposed.    The  portions  which  protect  the 

[97] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

book  and  render  it  at  once  firm  and  flexible  are  out  of  sigbt 
and  unheeded  by  the  ordinary  reader.  Hence  the  existence 
of  so  much  bookbinding  that  is  apparently  good  and  essen- 
tially bad,  and  hence  the  perpetual  timeliness  of  attempts  like 
that  of  the  present  chapter,  to  point  out  what  binding  is  and 
should  be.  The  processes  in  bookbinding  by  which  its  dif- 
ferent ends  of  utility  and  ornament  are  achieved  are  known 
under  the  two  heads  of  Forwarding  and  Finishing. 

Forwarding  includes  many  processes,  literally  "all  but  the 
finishing."  It  is  to  forwarding  that  a  book  owes  its  shapeli- 
ness, its  firmness,  its  flexibility,  and  its  durability.  Forward- 
ing takes  the  unfolded  and  unarranged  sheets  as  delivered  by 
the  printer  and  transforms  them  into  a  book  complete  in  all 
but  its  outermost  covering  of  cloth  or  leather.  The  first 
process  is  to  fold  the  sheets  and  reduce  their  strange  medley 
of  page  numbers  to  an  orderly  succession.  This  is  assuming 
that  there  is  a  whole  edition  to  be  bound.  If  it  consists  of  a 
thousand  copies,  then  there  will  be  a  certain  number  of  piles 
of  folded  sheets,  each  containing  a  thousand  copies  of  the 
same  pages  printed  in  groups,  let  us  say,  of  sixteen  each. 
These  groups  of  pages  are  called  sections  or  signatures. 
They  are  now  rearranged,  or  gathered,  into  a  thousand  piles, 
each  containing  the  signatures  that  belong  to  one  book.  The 
edition  is  thus  separated  into  its  thousand  books,  which  the 
collator  goes  over  to  see  that  each  is  perfect.  Let  us  follow 
the  fortunes  of  a  single  one.  It  is  not  much  of  a  book  to 
look  at,  being  rather  a  puffy  heap  of  paper,  but  pressing, 
rolling,  or  beating  soon  reduces  it  to  normal  dimensions, 
and  it  is  then  carried  forward  to  the  important  process  of 
sewing.  This  is  the  very  heart  of  the  whole  work.  If  the 
book  is  badly  sewed,  it  will  be  badly  bound,  though  a  thou- 
sand dollars  were  to  be  spent  upon  the  decoration  of  its 
covering.    There  is  only  one  best  method  of  sewing,  and  that 

[98] 


THE  CLOTHING  OF  A  BOOK 

is  around  raised  cords,  in  the  way  followed  by  the  earliest 
binders.  There  are  modern  machine  methods  that  are  very 
good,  but  they  are  only  cheap  substitutes  for  the  best.  The 
cords  must  be  of  good,  long-fibered  hemp,  and  the  thread  of 
the  best  quality  and  the  right  size  drawn  to  the  right  degree 
of  tension  without  missing  a  sheet.  After  the  sewing  the  end 
papers  are  put  in  place,  the  back  is  glued  and  rounded,  and 
the  mill  boards  are  fitted.  Into  these  last  the  ends  of  the 
cords  are  laced  and  hammered.  The  book  is  then  pressed  to 
set  its  shape,  being  left  in  the  press  for  some  days  or  even 
weeks.  After  it  is  taken  out,  if  the  edges  are  to  be  treated, 
they  are  trimmed  and  then  gilded,  marbled,  sprinkled,  or 
otherwise  decorated.  The  head  band  —  for  which  many 
French  binders  substitute  a  fold  in  the  leather  —  is  now 
added.  It  was  formerly  twisted  as  the  book  was  sewn,  but 
at  present  is  too  often  bought  ready-made  and  simply  glued 
on.    The  book  is  now  forwarded. 

The  business  of  the  finisher  is  to  cover  and  protect  the 
work  already  done  on  the  book,  but  in  such  a  way  as  not 
to  interfere  with  the  strength  and  flexibility  that  have  been 
gained,  and,  finally,  to  add  such  decoration  as  may  be  artis- 
tically demanded  or  within  the  means  of  the  purchaser.  If 
leather  is  employed,  it  must  be  carefully  shaved  to  give  an 
easily  opening  hinge,  yet  not  enough  to  weaken  it  unneces- 
sarily. This  is  a  most  important  process  and  one  that  must 
be  left  largely  to  the  good  faith  of  the  binder.  If  he  is  un- 
worthy of  confidence,  his  mistakes  may  long  escape  notice, 
but,  though  buried,  they  are  doomed  to  an  inglorious  resur- 
rection, albeit  he  may  count  on  a  sufficient  lapse  of  time  to 
protect  himself. 

The  next  and  last  process  of  finishing  is  that  of  the  deco- 
rator, whose  work  passes  out  of  the  sphere  of  handicraft  into 
that  of  art.    His  problem  is  no  easy  one ;  it  is  to  take  a  sur- 

[99] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

face  of  great  beauty  in  itself,  as  of  calf  or  morocco,  and  so 
treat  it  as  to  increase  its  beauty.  Too  often,  after  he  has 
done  his  utmost,  the  surface  is  less  attractive  to  the  eye  than 
it  was  at  the  beginning.  He,  therefore,  has  a  task  quite 
different  from  that  of  the  painter  or  sculptor,  whose  mate- 
rials are  not  at  the  outset  attractive.  This  condition  is  so 
strongly  felt  that  many  booklovers  leave  their  bindings  un- 
tooled,  preferring  the  rich  sensuous  beauty  and  depth  of 
color  in  a  choice  piece  of  leather  to  any  effect  of  gilding  or 
inlaying.  This  initial  beauty  of  the  undecorated  book  does 
not,  however,  form  an  impossible  challenge,  as  witness  the 
work  of  the  Eves,  Le  Gascon,  and  the  binders  of  such  famous 
collectors  as  Grolier  and  de  Thou. 

It  may  be  well  to  consider  more  particularly  what  the 
problem  of  the  book  decorator  is.  Though  perfectly  obvious 
to  the  eye  and  clearly  illustrated  by  the  work  of  the  masters, 
it  has  been  sometimes  lost  sight  of  by  recent  binders.  It  is, 
in  a  word,  flat  decoration.  In  the  first  place  he  has  a  surface 
to  work  upon  that  is  large  enough  to  allow  strength  of  treat- 
ment, yet  small  enough  to  admit  delicacy;  then,  whatever  in 
beautiful  effects  of  setting,  relief,  harmony,  and  contrast  can 
be  brought  about  by  blind  tooling,  gilding,  and  inlaying, 
or  by  rubbing  the  surface  as  in  crushed  levant,  or  variegat- 
ing it  as  in  "  tree"  or  marbled  calf,  all  this  he  can  command. 
He  has  control  of  an  infinite  variety  of  forms  in  tooling;  he 
has  only  to  use  them  with  taste  and  skill.  There  is  practi- 
cally no  limit  to  the  amount  of  work  that  he  can  put  into 
the  binding  of  a  single  book,  provided  that  every  additional 
stroke  is  an  additional  beauty.  He  may  sow  the  leather  with 
minute  ornament  like  Mearne,  or  set  it  off  with  a  few  sig- 
nificant lines  like  Aldus  or  Roger  Payne;  all  depends  upon 
the  treatment.  If  he  is  a  master,  the  end  will  crown  the 
work;    if  not,   then   he  should   have   stopped  with  simple 

[  loo] 


THE  CLOTHING  OF  A  BOOK 

lettering  and  have  left  the  demands  of  beauty  to  be  satisfied 
by  the  undecorated  leather.  Above  all,  let  every  decorator 
stick  to  flat  ornannent.  The  moment  that  he  ventures  into 
the  third  dimension,  or  perspective,  that  moment  he  invades 
the  province  of  the  draftsman  or  painter.  One  docs  not 
care  to  walk  over  a  rug  or  carpet  that  displays  a  scene  in 
perspective,  neither  does  one  wish  to  gaze  into  a  landscape 
wrought  upon  the  cover  of  a  book,  only  to  have  the  illusion 
of  depth  dispelled  upon  opening  the  volume.  Embossing  is, 
to  be  sure,  a  literal  not  a  pictorial  invasion  of  the  third  di- 
mension, but  its  intrusion  into  that  dimension  is  very  slight 
and  involves  no  cheating  of  the  eye.  It  has  now  practically 
gone  out  of  use,  as  has  the  heavy  medieval  ornamentation 
of  studs  or  jewels.  In  cloth  covers,  which  are  confessedly 
edition  work  and  machine  made,  the  rules  of  ornament  need 
not  be  so  sharply  enforced.  Here  embossing  still  flour- 
ishes to  some  extent.  But  the  decorative  problem  is  essen- 
tially the  same  in  cloth  as  in  leather  binding,  and  the  best 
design  will  be  one  that  triumphs  within  the  conditions,  not 
outside  them.  The  machines  and  the  division  of  labor  have 
made  sad  havoc  with  binding  as  a  craft.  The  men  in  America, 
at  least,  who  are  masters  of  every  process  and  of  all  the  skill 
and  cunning  of  the  early  binders  are  few,  and  their  thinning 
ranks  are  not  being  filled.  Will  bookbinding,  in  spite  of  a 
higfh  economic  demand,  share  the  fate  that  has  overtaken 
engraving,  or  shall  we  have  a  renascence  of  this  fascinating 
handicraft  and  delightful  art,  to  take  its  name  from  the 
present  era? 


[lOl] 


PARCHMENT  BINDINGS 


9J^^^^^^^  HERE  are  certain  things,  the  Autocrat  in- 
•^ iKfC -^mi-^im  H  forms  us,  that  are  "good  for  nothing  until 
they  have  been  kept  a  long  while;  and 
some  are  good  for  nothing  until  they  have 
been  long  kept  and  used.  Of  the  first, 
vv^ine  is  the  illustrious  and  immortal  ex- 


ample. Of  those  which  must  be  kept  and  used  I  will  name 
three  —  meerschaum  pipes,  violins,  and  poems."  May  we 
present  another  representative  of  the  class  which  gathers 
value  with  the  "process  of  the  suns,"  one  as  immortal  and 
historic  as  wine  and  even  richer  in  associations — the  parch- 
ment book  cover?  In  this  case  it  matters  not  whether  the 
object  meets  with  use  or  neglect.  So  long  as  it  is  not  actu- 
ally worn  to  pieces  on  the  one  hand,  nor  destroyed  by  mold  on 
the  other,  the  parchment  binding  will  keep  on  converting  time 
into  gold,  until  after  a  few  hundred  years  it  reaches  a  tint 
far  surpassing  in  beauty  the  richest  umber  of  a  meerschaum, 
and  approached  only  by  the  kindred  hue  of  antique  ivory. 

Here  is  a  table  full  of  old  parchment^bound  books,  ranging 
from  a  tiny  twenty-fourmo,  which  will  stay  neither  open 
nor  shut,  to  thin,  limp  folios  that  are  instantly  correspond- 
ent to  cither  command.  Those  that  are  bound  with  boards 
have  taken  on  a  drumhead  quality  of  smoothness  and  ten- 
sion, especially  the  fat  quartos  and  small  octavos,  while  the 
larger  volumes  that  received  a  flexible  binding  resemble 
nothing  in  surface  so  much  as  the  wrinkled  diploma  on 
yonder  wall,  with  its  cabalistic  signature  now  to  be  written 

[  102] 


PARCHMENT  BINDINGS 

no  more,  Garolus-Guil.  Eliot;  but  all  agree  in  a  tint  over 
which  artists  rave,  the  color  that  gold  w^ould  take  if  it  were 
capable  of  stain.  But  there  is  no  stain  here,  or  rather  all 
stains  are  taken  up  and  converted  into  beauty.  Dust,  dirt, 
smudges,  all  are  here,  and  each  is  made  to  contribute  a  new 
element  of  charm.  Is  the  resultant  more  beautiful  than  the 
spotless  original?  Compare  it  with  the  pearly  tint  of  the 
diploma,  or  turn  up  the  folded  edge  of  one  of  those  flexible 
bindings  and  note  the  chalky  white  of  the  parchment's  pro- 
tected under-surface.  The  same  three  hundred  years  that 
have  made  over  Europe  and  made  English  America  have,  as 
it  were,  filled  in  the  rhythmic  pauses  between  their  giant 
heart-beats  by  ripening  Dr.  Holmes's  wine  and  touching 
w  ith  Midas  caress  these  parchment  bindings ! 

It  is  surely  a  crime  to  keep  such  beauty  of  tint  and  tone 
hidden  away  in  drawers  or  all  but  hidden  on  crowded 
shelves.  Let  them  be  displayed  in  open  cases  where  all  may 
enjoy  them.  But  let  us  go  softly;  these  century-mellowed 
parchments  are  too  precious  to  be  displayed  to  unapprecia- 
tive,  perhaps  scornful,  eyes.  Put  them  away  in  their  hiding- 
places  until  some  gentle  reader  of  these  lines  shall  ask  for 
them  ;  then  we  will  bring  them  forth  and  persuade  ourselves 
that  we  can  detect  a  new  increment  of  beauty  added  by  the 
brief  time  since  last  we  looked  on  them.  I  once  heard  an 
address  on  a  librarian's  duty  to  his  successors.  I  will  sug- 
gest a  service  not  there  mentioned :  to  choose  every  year  the 
best  contemporary  books  that  he  can  find  worthily  printed 
on  time-proof  papers  and  have  them  bound  in  parchment; 
then  let  him  place  them  on  his  shelves  to  gather  gold  from 
the  touch  of  the  mellowing  years  through  the  centuries  to 
come  and  win  him  grateful  memory  such  as  we  bestow  upon 
the  unknown  hands  that  wrought  for  these  volumes  the 
garments  of  their  present  and  still  increasing  beauty. 

[.o3] 


LEST  WE  FORGET  THE  FEW  GREAT 

BOOKS 

NE  result  of  the  stir  that  has  been  made  in 
Hbrary  matters  during  the  last  two  genera- 
tions, and  especially  during  the  latter,  is 
the  enormous  increase  in  the  size  of  our 
(^^K^h  libraries.  In  1875  the  public  libraries  of 
^^L  J5  the  United  States  contained  a  little  less 
than  ii,5oo,ooo  volumes.  In  the  five  years  from  1908  to 
1913  the  libraries  of  5, 000  volumes  and  over  added  nearly 
20,000,000  volumes,  making  a  total  of  over  76,000,000 
volumes,  an  increase  of  35.7  P^^  cent.  In  1876  there  were 
8682  libraries  of  more  than  3oo  volumes  each;  in  191 3 
there  were  83o2  libraries  of  over  1000  volumes  each.  In 
1875  there  were  only  nine  libraries  containing  100,000  vol- 
umes or  over.  These  were  the  Library  of  Congress,  3oo,- 
000  ;  Boston  Public  Library,  3oo,ooo;  New  York  Mercantile 
Library,  160,000;  Harvard  College  Library,  i54,ooo;  Astor 
Library,  162,000;  Philadelphia  Mercantile  Library,  126,- 
000;  House  of  Representatives  Library,  126,000;  Boston 
Athenaeum,  io5,ooo;  Library  Company  of  Philadelphia, 
io4,ooo.  In  1913  there  were  in  this  class  82  libraries,  or 
over  nine  times  as  many,  including  \!\  libraries  of  3oo,ooo 
to  2,000,000  volumes,  a  class  which  did  not  exist  in  1876. 

Meanwhile  the  individual  book  remains  just  what  it  always 
was,  the  utterance  of  one  mind  addressed  to  another  mind, 
and  the  individual  reader  has  no  more  hours  in  the  day  nor 
days  in  his  life;  he  has  no  more  eyes  nor  hands  nor — we 

[io4] 


LEST  WE  FORGET  THE  FEW  GREAT  BOOKS 

reluctantly  confess  —  brains  than  he  had  in  iSyS.  But,  fast 
as  our  libraries  grow,  not  even  their  growth  fully  represents 
the  avalanche  of  books  that  is  every  year  poured  upon  the 
reader's  devoted  head  by  the  presses  of  the  world.  To  take 
only  the  four  countries  in  whose  literature  we  are  most  in- 
terested we  find  their  annual  book  publication,  for  the  latest 
normal  year,  iQiS,  to  be  as  follows:  Germany,  35,078  vol- 
umes;  France,  ii,46o;  England,  13,879;  America,  12, 280. 
But  Japan,  Russia,  and  Italy  are  each  credited  with  issuing 
more  books  annually  than  either  England  or  the  United 
States,  and  the  total  annual  book  publication  of  the  world  is 
estimated  to  reach  the  enormous  figure  of  more  than  i3o,- 
000  volumes.  In  view  of  this  prodigious  literary  output, 
what  progress  can  the  reader  hope  to  make  in  '  *  keeping  up 
with  the  new  books" ?  De  Quincey  figured  that  a  man  might 
possibly,  in  a  long  lifetime  devoted  to  nothing  else,  read 
20,000  volumes.  The  estimate  is  easy.  Suppose  we  start 
with  one  book  a  day — surely  a  large  supposition — and 
count  a  man's  reading  years  from  20  to  80,  60  years  in  all; 
60  times  365  is  21,900.  This  estimate  makes  no  allowance 
for  Sundays,  holidays,  or  sickness.  Yet,  small  as  it  is  —  for 
there  are  private  libraries  containing  20,000  volumes — it  is 
manifestly  too  large.  But  whatever  the  sum  total  ma^  be, 
whether  20,000  or  2,000,  let  us  see,  if  I  may  use  the  expres- 
sion, what  a  one  must  read  before  he  can  allow  himself  to 
read  what  he  really  wants  to. 

First  of  all  we  must  read  the  books  that  form  the  intellec- 
tual tools  of  our  trade,  and  there  is  no  profession  and  hardly 
a  handicraft  that  does  not  possess  its  literature.  For  instance, 
there  are  more  than  ten  periodicals  in  the  German  language 
alone  devoted  exclusively  to  such  a  narrow  field  as  bee- 
keeping. Such  periodicals  and  such  books  we  do  not  call 
literature,  any  more  than  we  do  the  labors  of  the  man  or 

[.o5] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

woman  who  supplies  the  text  for  Butterick's  patterns.  But 
they  are  printed  matter,  and  the  reading  of  them  takes  up  time 
that  we  might  have  spent  upon  "books  that  are  hooks." 

But  besides  this  bread  and  butter  reading  there  is  another 
sort  that  we  must  admit  into  our  hves  if  we  are  to  be  citi- 
zens of  the  world  we  live  in,  contemporaries  of  our  own 
age,  men  among  the  men  of  our  time,  and  that  is  reading 
for  general  information.  The  time  has  long  since  gone  by, 
to  be  sure,  when  any  man  could,  like  Lord  Bacon,  take  all 
knowledge  for  his  province — we  can  hardly  take  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  all  knowledge  to-day.  No  amount  of  reading 
will  ever  produce  another  Scaliger,  learned  in  every  sub- 
ject. To  be  well  informed,  even  in  these  days  of  the  banyan- 
like growth  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  is  to  be  a  miracle  of 
erudition.  Most  of  mankind  must  be  content  with  the  modest 
aim  which  Dr.  Holmes  set  for  the  poet,  to  know  enough  not 
to  make  too  many  blunders.  In  carrying  out  this  humble 
purpose,  that  of  merely  touching  elbows  with  the  thronging 
multitude  of  facts  of  interest  to  the  civilized  man,  we  have 
a  task  great  enough  to  occupy  the  time  of  any  reader,  even  if 
he  made  it  his  vocation ;  and  with  most  of  us  it  must  be  only 
a  minor  avocation.  The  very  books  about  the  books  in  this 
boundless  field,  the  compends  of  the  compends,  the  reviews 
of  the  reviews,  form  in  themselves  a  library  great  enough 
to  stagger  human  weakness.  Besides  all  this  —  in  a  sense  a 
part  of  it,  yet  a  miscellaneous  and  irrational  part — come  the 
newspapers,  with  their  daily  distraction.  This  is  after  all 
our  world,  and  we  cannot  live  in  it  and  be  absolute  noncon- 
formists. So  we  must  submit  to  the  newspaper,  though  it 
makes  a  heavy  addition  to  our  daily  load  of  reading  for  in- 
formation. But  there  is  still  another  kind  of  necessary  read- 
ing that  I  wish  to  mention  before  we  come  to  that  which 
ranks  chief  in  importance. 

[.06] 


LEST  WE  FORGET  THE  FEW  GREAT  BOOKS 

The  woman  who  takes  out  of  the  public  or  subscription 
library  a  novel  a  day  is  only  suffering  from  the  perversion  of 
an  appetite  that  in  its  normal  state  is  beneflcial.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  her  husband  does  not  read  enough  for  amusement, 
that  his  horizon  is  narrowed,  his  sympathies  stunted  by  the 
lack  of  that  very  influence  which,  in  excess,  unfits  his  wife 
for  the  realities  and  duties  of  everyday  existence.  It  came  as 
a  surprise  to  many  to  learn  from  Tennyson's  "Life"  that 
the  author  of  "In  Memoriam"  was  a  great  novel  reader. 
But  clearly  in  his  case  the  novel  produced  no  weakening  of 
the  mental  fiber.  President  Garfield  advised  the  student  to 
mingle  with  his  heavier  reading  a  judicious  proportion  of 
fiction.  The  novel  may  rank  in  the  highest  department  of 
literature  and  may  render  the  inestimable  service  of  broad- 
ening and  quickening  our  sympathies.  In  this  case  it  be- 
longs to  the  class  of  the  best  books.  But  I  have  introduced 
it  here  as  the  most  prominent  representative  of  what  we 
may  call  the  literature  of  recreation.  There  is  a  further  rep- 
resentative of  this  class  that  is  peculiarly  well  fitted  to  bring 
refreshment  and  cheer  to  the  weary  and  dispirited,  and  that 
is  humor,  which  is  often  also  the  soundest  philosophy. 

If  the  reader  does  not  at  the  outset  make  provision  in  his 
daily  reading  for  the  best  books,  the  days  and  the  months 
will  go  by,  and  the  unopened  volumes  will  look  down  upon 
him  from  his  shelves  in  dumb  reproof  of  his  neglect  and 
reminder  of  his  loss.  In  truth  it  is  all  a  matter  of  the  bal- 
ance of  gain.  W^hat  we  rate  highest  we  shall  find  room  for. 
If  we  cannot  have  our  spiritual  food  and  satisfy  all  our  other 
wants,  perhaps  we  shall  find  that  some  of  our  other  wants  can 
do  with  less  satisfaction.  That  we  should  neglect  the  material 
side  of  life  for  the  spiritual  I  do  not  say.  But  for  our  en- 
couragement let  me  quote  another  estimate  of  what  may  be 
accomplished  by  persistent  reading,  and  my  authority  shall 

[  107  ] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

be  the  late  Professor  William  Mathews,  the  essayist,  an 
author  whose  graceful  style  bears  lightly  as  a  flower  a  weight 
of  learning  that  would  appall,  if  it  did  not  so  delight  us. 
Says  Dr.  Mathews: 

Did  you  ever  think  of  the  sum  total  of  knowledge  that  may 
be  accumulated  in  a  decade,  or  score  of  years,  or  a  lifetime  by 
reading  only  lo  pages  a  day?  He  who  has  read  but  that  small 
amount  deiily,  omitting  Sundays,  has  read  in  a  year  3i3o  pages, 
which  is  equal  to  six  volumes  of  621  pages  each,  enough  to 
enable  one  to  master  a  science.  In  five  years  he  will  have  read 
i5,65o  pages,  equivalent  to  3o  large  volumes,  or  to  60  of  the 
average  size.  Now,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  3o  volumes 
of  52  1  pages  each  of  history,  biography,  science,  and  literature, 
well  chosen,  well  read,  and  well  digested,  will  be  worth  to  nine 
persons  out  of  ten  more  than  the  average  collegiate  education  is 
to  the  majority  of  graduates. 

Our  case  for  knowing  the  best  books  is,  therefore,  not 
hopeless.  W  hat  we  need  for  the  achievement  is  not  genius, 
but  only  a  moderate  amount  of  forethought  and  persistence. 
But  who  is  there  that  has  not  tasted  the  joy  of  discovering 
a  great  book  that  seemed  written  for  himself  alone?  If  there 
is  such  a  man,  he  is  to  be  pitied  —  unless,  indeed,  he  is  to 
be  congratulated  on  the  unimagined  pleasure  in  store  for 
him.  Discovery  is  not  too  strong  a  word  for  the  feeling  of 
the  reader  when  he  lights  upon  such  a  world-opening  volume. 
He  feels  that  no  one  else  ever  could  have  had  the  same  ap- 
preciation of  it,  ever  really  discovered  it,  that  he  is 

the  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea. 

Keats,  in  his  glorious  sonnet,  * '  On  First  Looking  into  Chap- 
man's Homer,"  has  given  the  finest  of  all  expressions  to 
this  sense  of  literary  discovery. 

[108] 


LEST  WE  FORGET  THE  FEW  GREAT  BOOKS 

Much  have  I  travelled  in  the  realms  of  gold 

And  many  goodly  states  and  kingdoms  seen; 
Round  many  western  islands  have  I  been 
Which  bards  in  fealty  to  Apollo  hold. 
Oft  of  one  wide  expanse  had  I  been  told 

That  deep-browed  Homer  ruled  as  his  demesne: 

Yet  never  did  I  breathe  its  pure  serene 
Till  I  heard  Chapman  speak  out  loud  and  bold: 
Then  felt  I  like  some  watcher  in  the  skies 

When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken; 
Or  like  stout  Cortez,  when  with  eagle  eyes 

He  stared  at  the  Pacific  —  and  all  his  men 
Looked  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise  — 

Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien. 

To  describe  such  accessions  of  spiritual  vision  we  turn 
instinctively  to  the  narratives  of  Holy  Writ,  to  Pisgah  and  its 
revelation  of  the  Promised  Land,  to  the  ladder  at  Bethel  with 
its  angels  ascending  and  descending,  and  to  the  lonely  seer 
on  Patmos  with  his  vision  of  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 

But,  questions  a  listener,  do  books  ever  really  affect  people 
like  this  ?  Most  assuredly  I  We  have  only  to  turn  to  biog- 
raphy for  the  record,  if  we  do  not  find  living  witnesses 
among  our  friends.  It  was  said  of  Neander  that  "Plato  is 
his  idol — his  constant  watchword.  He  sits  day  and  night 
over  him;  and  there  are  few  who  have  so  thoroughly  and 
in  such  purity  imbibed  his  wisdom." 

The  elder  Professor  Torrey,  of  the  University  of  Vermont, 
found  his  inspiration,  as  many  another  has  done,  in  Dante. 
In  his  youth  he  preferred  the  Inferno;  in  his  middle  life  he 
rose  to  the  calm  heights  of  the  Purgatorio;  and  he  used  to 
say  with  a  smile  that  perhaps  the  time  would  come  when  he 
should  be  fitted  to  appreciate  the  Paradiso.  Highly  interest- 
ing is  John  Ruskin's  tribute  to  Sir  Walter  Scott: 

It  is  one  of  the  griefs  of  my  old  age  that  I  know  Scott  by  heart, 
but  still,  if  I  take  up  a  volume  of  him,  it  is  not  laid  down  again 
for  the  next  hour. 

[  109] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

Beside  this  we  may  place  Goethe's  testimony,  also  written 
in  old  age: 

We  read  many,  too  many,  poor  things,  thus  losing  our  time 
and  gaining  nothing.  We  should  only  read  what  we  can  admire, 
as  I  did  in  my  youth,  and  as  1  now  do  with  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
1  have  now  begun  "Rob  Roy,"  and  I  shall  read  all  his  romances 
in  succession.  All  is  great  —  material,  import,  characters,  execu- 
tion ;  and  then  what  infinite  diligence  in  the  preparatory  studiesi 
what  truth  of  detail  in  the  composition!  Here  we  see  what  Eng- 
lish history  is;  what  an  inheritance  to  a  poet  able  to  make  use  of 
it.  Walter  Scott  is  a  great  genius ;  he  has  not  his  equal ;  and  we 
need  not  wonder  at  the  extraordinary  effect  he  has  produced  on 
the  reading  world.  He  gives  me  much  to  think  of;  and  I  dis- 
cover in  him  a  wholly  new  art  with  laws  of  its  own. 

Of  Goethe  himself  Carlyle  confessed  that  the  reading  of  his 
works  made  him  understand  what  the  Methodists  mean  by  a 
new  birth.  Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  speeches  and 
writings  of  Daniel  Webster  realize  the  inspiration  that  he 
owed  to  the  grandeur  of  Milton.  His  great  rival,  Calhoun, 
honored  everywhere  as  a  statesman,  was  known  in  his  own 
home  as  "the  old  man  of  the  Bible."  It  was  the  reading  of 
the  Bible  that  equipped  John  Bunyan  to  become  the  author 
of  "Pilgrim's  Progress."  The  novelists  have  not  failed  to 
recognize  the  influence  of  some  single  book  on  a  human  life. 
It  was  the  accidental  possession  of  a  folio  volume  of  Shake- 
speare—  in  Blackmore's  "  Lorna  Doone" — that  transformed 
John  Ridd  from  a  hulking  countryman  to  a  man  of  profound 
acquaintance  with  the  world.  And  who  does  not  remember 
Gabriel  Betteridge,  the  simple-hearted  old  steward  in  Wilkie 
Collins's  ' '  Moonstone,"  who  finds  for  every  occurrence  a  text 
to  counsel  or  console  in  his  favorite  "Robinson  Crusoe"? 

As  the  experience  of  Professor  Torrey  shows,  different 
books  appeal  to  us  most  strongly  at  different  ages.     Young 

[no] 


LEST  WE  FORGET  THE  FEW  GREAT  BOOKS 

men  read  Shelley,  old  men  read  Wordsworth.  In  youth 
"Hamlet"  is  to  us  the  greatest  of  all  plays;  in  old  age, 
"  Lear.  "  I  know  of  no  more  interesting  account  of  the  de- 
velopment of  a  mind  in  the  choice  of  books  than  that  pre- 
sented in  John  Beattie  Crozier's  autobiographical  \olume 
entitled  "  My  Inner  Life."  The  author  is  an  English  philos- 
opher, who  was  born  and  lived  until  manhood  in  the  back- 
woods of  Canada.  He  tells  us  how  as  a  young  mian  groping 
about  for  some  clew  to  the  mystery  of  the  world  in  which 
he  found  himself,  he  tried  one  great  writer  after  another — 
Mill,  Buckle,  Carlyle,  Emerson  —  all  to  no  purpose,  for  he 
was  not  ready  for  them.  At  this  period  he  read  with  great 
profit  the  "Recreations  of  a  Country  Parson,"  which,  as 
he  says,  "gave  me  precisely  the  grade  and  shade  of  plati- 
tude I  required."  But  more  important  were  the  weekly 
sermons  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher.     Of  him  Crozier  says: 

For  years  his  printed  sermons  were  the  main  source  of  my  in- 
struction and  delight.  His  range  and  variety  of  observation  .  .  . 
his  width  of  sympathy ;  his  natural  and  spontaneous  pathos ;  the 
wealth  of  illustration  and  metaphor  with  which  his  sermons  were 
adorned,  and  which  were  drawn  chiefly  from  natural  objects,  from 
his  orchard,  his  farm,  his  garden,  as  well  as  from  machinery 
and  from  all  kinds  of  natural  processes ;  his  naturalism  and  ab- 
sence of  theological  bias;  his  knowledge  of  average  men  and 
their  ways  of  looking  at  things;  in  a  word,  his  general  fertility 
of  tiiought,  filling  up,  as  it  did,  the  full  horizon  of  my  mind, 
and  running  over  and  beyond  it  on  all  sides,  so  that  wherever 
I  looked  he  had  been  there  before  me  —  all  this  delighted  and 
enchanted  me,  and  made  him  for  some  years  my  ideal  of  intel- 
lectual greatness ;  and  I  looked  forAvard  to  the  Saturdays  on  which 
his  weekly  sermons  reached  me  with  longing  and  pure  joy. 

Later,  in  England,  Crozier  took  up  the  works  of  the 
philosophers  with  better  success.     The  chapter  of  most  in- 

[III] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

lerest  for  us  is  the  one  on  the  group  which  he  calls  ' '  The 
Poetic  Thinkers"  —  Garlyle,  Newman,  Emerson,  Goethe. 
Of  these  he  places  Goethe  and  Emerson  highest.  Indeed  of 
Emerson's  essay  on  "Experience"  he  says: 

In  this  simple  framework  Emerson  has  contrived  to  work  in 
thoughts  on  human  life  more  central  and  commanding,  more 
ultimate  and  final,  and  of  more  universal  application  than  are 
to  be  found  within  the  same  compass  in  the  literature  of  any 
age  or  time,  thoughts  which  rise  to  the  mind  as  naturally  and 
spontaneously  when  the  deeper  secrets  of  life  are  in  question, 
as  proverbs  do  in  its  more  obvious  and  superficial  aspects.  .  .  . 
Nowhere,  indeed,  will  you  find  greater  penetration  and  pro- 
fundity, or  greater  refinement  and  delicacy  than  in  these  essays 
(of  Emerson).  .  .  .  After  a  lapse  of  ten  or  fifteen  years  ...  no 
increase  of  experience  or  reflection  has  enabled  me  to  add  or 
suggest  aught  by  way  of  commentary  on  these  great  and  pene- 
trating observations  on  human  life  that  is  not  either  more  super- 
ficial or  less  true.  .  .  .  Until  Emerson  is  understood,  no  observer 
of  human  life  making  any  pretension  to  originality  can,  in  my 
judgment,  consider  his  reputation  safe,  or  his  work  free  from 
the  danger  of  being  undermined  by  this  great  master  of  human 
thought. 

If  some  scholar  on  whose  judgment  we  relied  were  to 
speak  in  these  terms  of  a  book  that  was  only  to  be  read  in 
Persian  or  Icelandic,  how  cheerfully  we  should  bend  our- 
selves to  the  task  of  learning  these  difficult  tongues  for  the 
sake  of  the  reward — the  possession  of  the  coveted  thought. 
But  the  writings  of  Emerson  are  in  our  own  language  and 
accessible  in  the  cheapest  editions.  If  to  us  personally 
Emerson  does  not  make  this  supreme  appeal,  there  are 
other  writers,  all  at  hand,  set  apart  from  the  great  multitude 
of  lesser  spirits  by  that  final  weigher  of  human  talents  whom 
Bacon  calls  Good  Fame.  It  is  not  that  among  the  myriad 
volumes  of  a  library  we  must  painfully  and  largely  by  acci- 


LEST  WE  FORGET  THE  FEW  GREAT  ROOKS 

dent  discover  the  few  of  highest  worth — scanning  each 
douhtfully  as  one  searches  for  an  unknown  visitor  in  the 
crowd  aHghting  from  a  train.  No,  the  hest  books  are  the 
best  known,  the  most  accessible.  Lists  of  the  ten,  the  fifty, 
the  one  hundred  best  books  are  at  our  disposal,  and,  if  they 
do  not  always  represent  final  judgments,  are  near  enough 
for  practical  purposes.  The  will  to  read  the  best  books  is 
all  that  we  need  to  supply — the  rest  has  been  done  for  us. 
And  is  there  anyone  who  turns  with  indifference  from  the 
high  and  free  privilege  of  making  the  greatest  spirits  that 
have  ever  lived  his  bosom  friends,  his  companions  and  coun- 
selors? If  there  be  such  a  one,  would  that  I  might  repeat 
to  him  more  of  that  glorious  chant  in  praise  of  books  that 
has  been  sung  by  the  wise  of  all  ages,  from  Socrates  to 
Gladstone.  I  have  given  a  few  of  these  tributes  already;  I 
will  close  with  one  from  an  unexpected  source.  Says  Walt 
Whitman,  in  his  "Democratic  Vistas,"  speaking  of  the 
books  that  have  come  down  to  us  from  antiquity: 

A  few  immortal  compositions,  small  in  size,  yet  compassing 
what  measureless  values  of  reminiscence,  contemporary  por- 
traitures, manners,  idioms  and  beliefs,  with  deepest  inference, 
hint  and  thought,  to  tie  and  touch  forever  the  old,  new  body, 
and  the  old,  new  soul.  These  !  and  still  these  I  bearing  the  freight 
so  dear — dearer  than  pride  —  dearer  than  love.  All  the  best  ex- 
perience of  humanity  folded,  saved,  freighted  to  us  here  1  Some 
of  these  tiny  ships  we  call  Old  and  New  Testament,  Homer, 
Eschylus,  Plato,  Juvenal,  etc.  Precious  minims!  I  think  if 
we  were  forced  to  choose,  rather  than  have  you,  and  the  likes 
of  you,  and  what  belongs  to  and  has  grown  of  you,  blotted  out 
and  gone,  we  could  better  afford,  appalling  as  that  would  be, 
to  lose  all  actual  ships,  this  day  fastened  by  wharf,  or  floating 
on  wave,  and  see  them,  with  all  their  cargoes,  scuttled  and  sent 
to  the  bottom. 

Gathered  by  geniuses  of  city,  race  or  age,  and  put  by  them 

[1.3] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

in  highest  of  art's  forms,  namely,  the  hterary  form,  the  pecuHar 
combinations,  and  the  outshows  of  that  city,  age  or  race,  its 
particular  modes  of  the  universal  attributes  and  passions,  its 
faiths,  heroes,  lovers  and  gods,  wars,  traditions,  struggles, 
crimes,  emotions,  joys  (or  the  subtle  spirit  of  these)  having 
been  passed  on  to  us  to  illumine  our  own  selfhood,  and  its  ex- 
periences—  what  they  supply,  indispensable  and  highest,  if  taken 
away,  nothing  else  in  all  the  world's  boundless  storehouses  could 
make  up  to  us,  or  ever  again  return. 


[1.4] 


PRINTING   PROBLEMS   FOR  SCIENCE 
TO   SOLVE 


HE  book  seems  to  have  been  regarded  for 
hundreds  of  years — for  thousands  of  years 
if  we  include  its  prototypes  —  as  a  thing 
apart,  subject  to  its  own  laws  of  beauty, 
utility,  and  economy.  But  recently  men 
have  come  to  realize  that  the  book  has  no 
special  esthetic  license,  that  what  is  barbarous  art  elsewhere 
is  barbarous  in  the  book;  they  also  recognize  that  the  book 
is  within  the  domain  of  economics,  that  the  invention  of 
typography  was  primarily  a  reduction  of  cost,  and  that  a 
myriad  later  processes,  which  make  the  book  what  it  is 
to-day,  are  all  developments  of  the  same  principle.  What 
has  not  been  so  clearly  seen  is  that  in  the  field  of  utility  the 
book  is  not  independent,  cannot  impose  conditions  upon 
its  users,  but  is  an  instrument  strictly  subordinate  to  human 
needs.  The  establishment  of  its  efficiency  has  only  begun 
when  we  have  adapted  it  to  the  convenience  of  the  hand  and 
the  bookshelf.  The  real  tests  of  its  utility  are  subtle,  not 
gross,  and  are,  in  fact,  beyond  the  range  of  ordinary  hap- 
hazard experience.  In  this  field  popular  judgment  niay  be 
right  or  wrong;  it  offers  merely  an  opinion,  which  it  cannot 
prove.  But  here  that  higher  power  of  common  sense  that  we 
call  science  comes  in  and  gives  verdicts  that  take  account  of 
all  the  elements  involved  and  can  be  verified.  Rather  this 
is  what  science  has  not  yet  done  for  printing,  or  has  done  only 
in  part,  but  which  we  confidently  expect  it  is  about  to  do. 

[ii5] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

What  then  are  some  of  the  points  that  we  may  call  in 
science  to  settle?  We  know  surely  that  fine  type,  bad  press- 
work,  pale  ink  on  gray  paper  are  all  bad  for  the  eyes.  But 
there  are  a  host  of  other  matters  connected  with  printing, 
we  may  even  say  most  matters,  in  regard  to  which  our 
knowledge  is  either  uncertain  or  indefinite.  In  respect  to 
this  whole  range  of  practical  printing  subjects  we  want  to 
know  just  what  practice  is  the  best  and  by  what  percentage 
of  superiority.  This  quantitative  element  in  the  solution  is  of 
great  importance,  for  when  rival  considerations,  the  esthetic, 
the  economic,  for  instance,  plead  for  one  choice  as  against 
another,  we  shall  know  just  how  much  sacrifice  of  utility 
is  involved.  The  tests  for  which  we  look  to  science  cover 
everything  that  goes  to  make  up  the  physical  side  of  the 
book.  The  tests  themselves,  however,  are  psychological, 
for  the  book  makes  its  appeal  to  the  mind  through  one  of 
the  senses,  that  of  sight,  and  therefore  its  adaptedness  to  the 
manifold  peculiarities  of  human  vision  must  be  the  final 
criterion  of  its  utility. 

Beginning  with  the  material  basis  of  the  book — paper — 
most  readers  are  sure  that  both  eggshell  and  glaze  finish  are 
a  hindrance  to  easy  reading  and  even  hurtful  to  the  eyes; 
but  which  is  worse  and  how  much  ?  Is  there  any  difference 
as  regards  legibility  between  antique  and  medium  plate 
finish,  and  which  is  better  and  by  what  percentage?  In 
regard  to  the  color  as  well  as  the  surface  of  paper  we  are 
largely  at  sea.  We  realize  that  contrast  between  paper  and 
ink  is  necessary,  but  is  the  greatest  contrast  the  best?  Is 
the  blackest  black  on  the  whitest  white  better,  for  instance, 
than  blue-black  on  buff-white,  and  how  much?  Is  white 
on  black  not  better  than  black  on  white,  and,  if  so,  in  what 
exact  degree?  Or  is  the  real  solution  to  be  found  in  some 
other  color  contrast  as  yet  untried?    The  very  mention  of 

[1,6] 


PRINTING  PROBLEMS  FOR  SCIENCE  TO  SOLVE 

some  of  these  possibilities  shocks  our  prejudices  and  stirs 
our  conservatism  to  revolt  in  advance ;  ^et,  with  or  against 
our  will,  we  may  be  perfectly  sure  that  the  changes  which 
science  finally  pronounces  imperative  will  be  made. 

Who  can  toll  what  is  the  normal  length  of  line  for  legi- 
bility, or  whether  there  is  one,  and  whether  there  is  an 
ideal  size  of  type,  or  what  it  is?  Are  the  newspapers,  for 
instance,  right  as  to  length  of  line  and  the  books  as  to  size 
of  type,  as  many  suppose?  Has  each  size  of  type  a  length 
of  line  normal  to  it?  How  is  this  aflected  by  leading,  or 
is  leading  merely  of  imaginary  value?  Is  large  type  desir- 
able for  the  schoolbooks  of  the  youngest  children,  and  may 
the  type  be  made  smaller,  down  to  a  certain  limit,  without 
harm,  as  the  children  grow  older,  or  is  there  one  ideal  size 
for  all  ages?  It  is  frankly  recognized  that  in  certain  works, 
like  editions  of  the  poets,  legibility  may  properly  be  sacri- 
ficed in  some  degree  to  beauty,  and  in  certain  reference 
works,  again,  to  economy  of  space;  but  we  should  like  to 
know,  as  we  do  not  now  with  any  exactness,  what  amount 
of  legibility  is  surrendered. 

It  is  easy,  however,  to  see  that  one  great  battleground  of 
controversy  in  any  suggested  reforms  must  be  the  design 
of  the  type  itself.  Here,  fortunately,  the  English  public 
starts  with  a  great  advantage.  We  have  thrown  overboard 
our  old  black  letter  with  its  dazzling  contrasts  of  shading 
and  its  fussy  ornament,  and  therefore  can  begin  where  the 
Germans  must  some  day  leave  off.  We  have  no  accents  or 
other  diacritical  marks,  and  in  this  respect  are  superior  to 
the  French  also.  We  start  with  a  fairly  extended  and  dis- 
tinct letter  like  Caslon  for  our  norm,  but  even  so  the  problem 
is  in  the  highest  degree  complex  and  baffling.  First,  ac- 
cepting the  traditional  forms  of  the  letters,  we  must  deter- 
mine whether  light  or  heavy,  even  or  shaded,  condensed  or 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

extended  letters  are  the  more  legible,  and  always  in  what 
proportion.  We  shall  then  be  in  a  position  to  decide  the 
relative  standing  of  the  various  commercial  types,  if  such 
we  find,  that  fairly  well  meet  the  conditions.  It  will  also 
be  obvious  what  changes  can  be  introduced  to  improve  the 
types  that  stand  highest.  By  and  by  the  limit  of  improve- 
ment will  be  reached  under  the  traditional  forms  of  the 
letters.  It  will  next  be  the  task  of  science  to  show  by  what 
modifications  or  substitutions  the  poorest  letters,  such  as 
s  z  e  a  X  o  can  be  brought  up  to  the  visibility  of  the  best 
letters,  such  as  mwdjlp.  Some  of  these  changes  may  be 
slight,  such  as  shortening  the  overhang  of  the  a  and  slanting 
the  bar  of  the  e,  while  others  may  involve  forms  that  are 
practically  new.  It  is  worth  remembering  at  this  point 
that  while  our  capital  letters  are  strictly  Roman,  our  small 
or  lower-case  letters  came  into  being  during  the  middle  ages, 
and  many  of  them  would  not  be  recognized  by  an  ancient 
Roman  as  having  any  relation  to  his  alphabet.  They  there- 
fore belong  to  the  modern  world  and  can  be  altered  without 
sacrilege. 

There  will  remain  other  problems  to  be  solved,  such  as 
the  use  of  capitals  at  all;  punctuation,  whether  to  keep  our 
present  practice  or  to  devise  a  better ;  the  use  of  spacing  be- 
tween paragraphs,  words,  and  even  letters;  besides  numerous 
problems  now  hardly  guessed.  Many  of  the  conclusions  of 
science  will  be  openly  challenged,  but  such  opposition  is 
easiest  to  overcome.  Harder  to  meet  will  be  the  opposition 
of  prejudice,  one  of  whose  favorite  weapons  is  always  ridi- 
cule. But  the  results  of  science  in  the  field  of  printing,  as 
in  every  other,  are  sure  to  make  their  way  into  practice, 
and  here  their  beneficent  effect  in  the  relief  of  eye  strain 
and  its  consequent  nervous  wear  and  in  the  saving  of  time 
is  beyond  our  present  power  to  calculate  or  even  imagine. 

[ii8] 


PRINTING  PROBLEMS  FOR  SCIENCE  TO  SOLVE 

The  world  at  the  end  of  the  twentieth  century  will  be  a 
dilFerent  world  from  this,  a  far  better  world,  we  trust;  and 
one  of  the  potent  influences  in  bringing  about  that  improve- 
ment will  then  be  traced,  we  are  conGdent,  to  the  fact  that, 
near  the  beginning  of  the  century,  science  was  called  in 
to  solve  those  problems  of  the  book  that  belong  to  the 
laboratory  rather  than  to  the  printing  office. 


["9] 


TYPES   AND   EYES:    THE   PROBLEM 

UR  modern  world  submits  with  an  ill  grace 
to  the  nuisance  of  spectacles,  but  flatters 
itself  that  after  all  they  afford  a  measure 
of  civilization.  Thirty-five  years  ago  Dr. 
Emile  Javal,  a  Parisian  oculist,  contested 
this  self-complacent  inference,  believing 
the  terrible  increase  of  near  sight  among  school  children  to 
be  due  rather  to  a  defect  than  to  an  excess  of  civilization. 
He  conceived  that  the  trouble  must  lie  in  the  material  set 
for  the  eye  to  work  upon,  namely,  the  printed  page.  He 
therefore  instituted  a  series  of  experiments  to  discover  its 
defects  from  the  point  of  view  of  hygiene.  Being  an  oculist, 
he  naturally  adopted  the  test  of  distance  to  determine  the 
legibility  of  single  letters  at  the  limit  of  vision,  and  he  em- 
ployed the  oculist's  special  type.  His  conclusions  cover  a 
wide  range.  He  decided  that  paper  with  a  slightly  buff  tint 
printed  with  an  ink  tinged  with  blue  was  the  most  agreeable 
combination  for  the  eye,  though  in  absolute  clearness  noth- 
ing can  surpass  the  contrast  of  black  upon  white.  He  held 
that  leading  is  no  advantage  to  clearness,  and  that  it  would 
be  better  to  print  the  same  words  on  the  page  in  a  larger 
type  unleaded.  He  found  the  current  type  too  condensed; 
this  is  particularly  a  fault  of  French  type.  But  he  favored 
spacing  between  the  letters  of  a  word,  a  conclusion  in  which 
he  has  not  been  followed  by  later  investigators.  He  found 
shaded  type  a  disadvantage  and  advocated  a  fairly  black 
type  in  which  all  the  lines  are  of  uniform  thickness.     But 

[  120] 


TYPES  AND  EYES :  THE  PROBLEM 

most  interesting  are  his  conclusions  regarding  the  letters 
themselves.  He  found  that  the  eye  in  reading  follows  a 
horizontal  line  which  cuts  the  words  just  below  the  tops  of 
the  short  letters,  the  parts  of  the  letters  being  indistinct  in 
proportion  as  they  are  distant  from  this  line.  It  is  chiefly 
by  their  individuality  on  this  line  that  letters  acquire  dis- 
tinctness. But  just  here  he  found  that  an  unfortunate 
tendency  towards  uniformity  had  been  at  work,  flattening 
the  rounded  letters  and  rounding  the  square  letters.  In  a 
series  of  articles  he  gives  exhaustive  studies  of  the  various 
letters,  their  characteristics,  and  their  possible  reform. 

These  ten' point  lines  in  Delia  Robbia  of  the  American  Type 
Founders  Company  include  the  principal  elements  of  reform 
advocated  by  Dr.  Javal,  as  well  as  others  mentioned  below 

A  few  years  later  Dr.  Gattell,  now  a  professor  in  Colum- 
bia, but  then  an  investigator  in  Wundt's  psychological  lab- 
oratory in  Leipsic,  made  a  series  of  studies  on  brain  and 
eye  inertia  in  the  recognition  of  letters.  Like  Dr.  Javal  he 
found  some  alphabets  harder  to  see  than  others  and  the 
letters  of  the  same  alphabet  diff'erent  in  legibility.  He  saw 
no  advantage  in  having  a  mixture  of  capital  and  small  letters. 
He  condemned  shading  in  types  and  opposed  all  ornament 
as  an  element  of  confusion.  He  regarded  punctuation  marks 
as  hard  to  see  and  proposed  that  they  should  be  displaced, 
or  at  least  supplemented,  by  spaces  between  the  words  cor- 
responding to  the  pause  in  the  thought  or  the  utterance. 

He  tested  the  letters  by  their  legibility  when  seen  for  a 
small  fraction  of  a  second  through  a  narrow  slit  in  a  falling 
screen.  Beginning  with  the  capitals,  he  found  that  out  of 
two  hundred  and  seventy  trials  for  each  letter,  W  was 
recognized  two  hundred  and  forty-one  times  and  E  only 
sixty-three  times,  the  former  being  much  more  distinct  and 
the  latter  much  less  distinct  than  any  other.     Some  letters, 

[I2l] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

like  S  and  G,  were  found  hard  to  recognize  in  themselves, 
and  certain  groups  of  letters,  such  as  0,  Q,  G,  and  G,  were 
constantly  confused  with  one  another.  Said  Dr.  Gattell, 
"  If  I  should  give  the  probable  time  wasted  each  day  through 
a  single  letter,  as  E,  being  needlessly  illegible,  it  would 
seem  almost  incredible;  and,  if  we  could  calculate  the 
necessary  strain  put  upon  eye  and  brain,  it  would  be  still 
more  appalling," 

In  regard  to  the  small  letters  he  found  a  like  difference 
in  legibility.  Out  of  one  hundred  trials  d  was  read  correctly 
eighty-seven  times,  s  only  twenty-eight  times.  He  found 
s,  g,  c,  and  x  particularly  hard  to  recognize  by  reason  of 
their  form  ;  and  certain  pairs  and  groups  were  sources  of  con- 
fusion. The  group  of  slim  letters,  i,  j,  I,  f,  t,  is  an  instance. 
He  suggested  that  a  new  form  of  I,  perhaps  the  Greek  X, 
should  be  adopted;  and  he  advocated  the  dropping  of  the  dot 
from  the  i,  as  in  Greek.  He  made  experiments  upon  the  Ger- 
man as  well  as  the  Roman  alphabet,  but  he  found  the  former 
so  bad  that  he  could  only  advise  giving  it  up  altogether. 

Somewhat  later,  in  1888,  Mr.  E.  G.  Sanford,  now  presi- 
dent of  Glark  Gollege,  published  in  the  "American  Journal 
of  Psychology"  an  exhaustive  study  on  "The  Relative  Legi- 
bility of  the  Small  Letters."  He  studied  simply  the  letter 
forms,  to  determine  the  order  of  legibility  in  the  alphabet  and 
the  groups  most  liable  to  confusion,  in  order  to  discover 
what  letters  most  need  improvement  and  upon  what  clear- 
ness depends.  He  too  employed  a  special  type.  He  found 
the  order  under  the  distance  test  tobewmqpvyjf  hrd 
gkbxlnu  atizocse,  and  the  order  under  the  time  test 
mwdqvyjp  kfblighrxt  ouanescz.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  of  the  seven  letters  most  largely  represented 
in  a  full  font  of  type,  etainos,  all  fall  in  the  last  third 
of  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  groups,  four  are  there  in 

[  132  ] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:  THE  PROBLEM 

both  groups,  while  e,  the  letter  used  most  of  all,  stands  at 
the  very  foot  of  the  list  in  the  distance  group.  Could  there 
be  any  clearer  call  for  the  reform  of  our  letters? 

Mr.  Sanford  enters  at  length  into  the  question  of  the 
points  that  help  and  hinder  legibility  and  that  should  there- 
fore be  considered  in  reforming  the  shapes  of  letters.  En- 
largement of  size  and  increase  of  differences  are  obvious 
aids  to  clearness.  Simplicity  of  outline  and  concentration 
of  peculiarity  upon  one  feature  are  important  elements  of 
legibility.  Even  a  letter  of  small  size,  like  v,  is  brought 
into  the  first  group  by  a  combination  of  these  tvv^o  quali- 
ties. Serifs  are  necessary  to  prevent  irradiation,  or  an 
overflowing  of  the  white  on  the  black,  but  they  should 
be  stubby;  if  long,  they  take  on  the  character  of  ornament 
and  become  confusing.  The  letters  g  and  a  are  complicated 
without  being  distinctive  and  are  therefore  continually  con- 
fused with  other  letters.  The  ceo  group  of  much  used 
letters  can  be  made  less  liable  to  confusion  if  the  gap  on 
the  right  of  the  first  two  letters  is  made  wider  and  the  line 
of  the  e  slants  downward  as  in  Jenson.  Another  group, 
a  n  u,  are  confused  together.  To  avoid  this  the  top  and 
bottom  openings  of  n  and  u  should  be  made  as  open  as 
possible  and  the  a  should  go  back  to  the  old  script  form  a. 
as  in  the  Humanistic  type.  The  letter  s  is  a  source  of  great 
difficulty,  being  either  not  recognized  at  all  in  the  tests  or 
confused  with  other  letters.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
Franklin  greatly  deprecated  the  giving  up  of  the  long  f ,  and 
a  return  to  this  form  is  now  suggested,  care  being  taken, 
of  course,  to  differentiate  it  from  f,  especially  by  carrying 
it  below  the  line.  The  dot  of  the  i  is  of  no  use  when  the 
letter  stands  alone,  but  it  is  an  important  element  of  dis- 
tinctness in  words  like  "minim."  The  dot,  as  Dr.  Javal 
suggests,   should   be  set  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  the  1 

[..3] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

rather  than  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  the  t.    A  reduction  of 
serifs  would  lessen  the  confusion  of  x  and  z  and  of  sand  z. 

But  it  is  unnecessary  to  trace  these  studies  in  all  their 
minutiae.  In  the  twenty-eight  years  that  have  followed 
the  appearance  of  Mr.  Sanford's  article  work  along  the 
same  lines  has  been  done  by  many  investigators  in  various 
countries.  Some  of  the  conclusions  that  we  have  noticed 
have  been  sustained,  others  have  been  discredited.  The 
most  important  conclusions  of  the  investigators  down  to 
1908  will  be  found  scattered  through  the  pages  of  Huey's 
"Psychology  and  Pedagogy  of  Reading,"  which  appeared  in 
that  year.  Such  matters  as  the  normal  length  of  a  line  of 
print,  the  size  of  type  appropriate  to  schoolbooks  for  chil- 
dren of  different  ages,  the  possibilities  of  future  type  design 
with  reference  solely  to  the  reader's  needs,  are  among  the 
many  subjects  there  set  forth  in  an  interesting  fashion. 

In  all  these  studies  one  obvious  subject  of  investigation 
appears  to  have  been  overlooked,  and  that  is  the  actual 
types  of  everyday  print.  Do  they  vary  greatly  in  legibility  ? 
Are  some  of  them  so  bad  that  they  ought  to  be  rejected  iVi 
ioto?  On  the  other  hand,  have  the  designers  of  certain 
types  attained  by  instinct  or  by  happy  accident  a  degree  of 
legibility  that  approximates  the  best  to  be  hoped  for?  If 
so,  can  we  trace  the  direction  to  be  followed  in  seeking 
further  improvement?  To  answer  these  questions  an  ex- 
tended investigation  was  undertaken  at  Clark  University  in 
191 1  by  Miss  Barbara  Elizabeth  Roethlein  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Professor  John  Wallace  Baird.  Her  results  were 
published  by  Clark  University  Library  in  January,  191 2, 
under  the  title  ' '  The  Relative  Legibility  of  Different  Faces 
of  Printing  Types."  The  pamphlet  abounds  in  tables  made 
clear  by  the  use  of  the  very  types  under  consideration.  The 
following  are  the  conclusions  reached: 

[,2/1] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:  THE  PROBLEM 

1.  Certain  faces  of  type  are  much  more  legible  than  other 
faces ;  and  certain  letters  of  every  face  are  much  more  legible 
than  other  letters  of  the  same  face. 

2.  These  diiferences  in  legibility  prove  to  be  greater  when 
letters  are  presented  in  isolation  from  one  another  than  when 
they  are  presented  in  groups. 

3.  Legibility  is  a  product  of  six  factors:  (i)  the  form  of  the 
letter;  (2)  the  size  of  the  letter;  (3)  the  heaviness  of  the  face  of 
the  letter  (the  thickness  of  the  lines  which  constitute  the  letter) ; 

(4)  tlie  width  of  the  white  margin  which  surrounds  the  letter; 

(5)  tlie  position  of  the  letter  in  the  letter  group ;  (6)  the  shape 
and  size  of  the  adjacent  letters.  In  our  experiments  the  first 
factor  seemed  to  be  less  significant  than  any  of  the  other  five ; 
that  is,  in  the  type-faces  which  were  employed  in  the  present 
investigation  the  form  of  any  given  letter  of  the  alphabet  usually 
varied  between  such  narrow  limits  as  to  constitute  a  relatively 
insignificant  factor  in  the  determination  of  its  legibility. 

4.  The  relatively  heavy-faced  types  prove  to  be  more  legible 
than  the  light-faced  types.  The  optimal  heaviness  of  face  seems  to 
lie  in  a  mean  between  the  bold  faces  and  such  light  faces  as  Scotch 
Roman  and  Gushing  Monotone. 

5.  The  initial  position  in  a  group  of  letters  is  the  most  ad- 
vantageous position  for  legibility ;  the  final  position  comes  next 
in  order  of  advantage ;  and  the  intermediate  or  internal  positions 
are  least  favorable  for  legibility. 

6.  The  size  and  the  form  of  the  letters  which  stand  adjacent 
to  any  given  letter  play  an  important  role  in  determining  its  legi- 
bility ;  and  the  misreadings  which  occur  in  the  case  of  grouped 
letters  are  of  a  wholly  different  sort  from  those  which  occur  in 
the  case  of  isolated  letters.  When  letters  of  the  same  height  or 
of  similar  form  appear  side  by  side,  they  become  relatively  illegi- 
ble. But  the  juxtaposition  of  an  ascender,  a  descender  and  a 
short  letter  tends  to  improve  the  legibility  of  each,  as  also  does 
the  juxtaposition  of  letters  which  are  made  up  wholly  or  chiefly  of 
straight  lines  and  letters  which  are  made  up  wholly  or  chiefly 
of  curved  lines. 

7.  The  quality  and  the  texture  of  the  paper  is  a  much  less 
significant  factor  than  has  been  supposed,  provided,  of  course,  that 

[1.5] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

the  illumination  and  the  inclination  of  the  paper  are  such  as  to 
secure  an  optimal  condition  of  light  reflection  from  its  surface. 

8.  There  is  an  urgent  need  for  modification  of  certain  letters  of 
the  alphabet. 

Gontrar^f  to  previous  results  with  special  types,  these  tests 
of  commercial  types  represent  the  capitals  as  more  legible, 
by  about  one-fifth,  than  the  lowercase  letters;  but,  in  view 
of  the  much  greater  bigness  and  heaviness  of  capitals,  the 
earlier  judgment  would  seem  to  be  supported  so  far  as 
the  letter  forms  of  the  two  classes  are  concerned.  The 
order  of  each  class,  taking  an  average  of  all  the  faces,  is  as 
follows:  WMLJIATGVQPDOYUFHXGNZ 
KERB  Smwdj  Ipfqyihgbkvrtncuoxaezs. 
Gonsidering  only  the  lowercase  letters,  which  represent 
nine-tenths  of  the  print  that  meets  the  eye,  we  still  have 
four  of  the  most  used  letters,  s  e  a  o,  in  the  lowest  fourth 
of  the  group,  while  s  in  both  sizes  of  type  and  in  all  faces 
stands  at  the  bottom.  The  average  legibility  of  the  best  and 
worst  is:   W,  3oo.2;    S,  206.7 ;   "^'  296.8;    s,   i52.6. 

The  tests  were  by  distance;  the  letters  were  all  ten-point 
of  the  various  faces ;  and  the  figures  represent  the  distance 
in  centimeters  at  which  the  letters  were  recognized.  There 
is  a  satisfaction  in  being  assured  that  the  range  between  the 
best  and  the  worst  is  not  so  great  as  had  been  estimated 
previously,  the  proportion  being  in  the  one  case  not  quite 
3  :  2  and  in  the  other  not  quite  3  :  i.5.  The  following 
twenty-six  widely  different  faces  of  type  were  studied: 

American  Typewriter  Century  Expanded 

Bold  Antique  Cheltenham  Oldstyle 

Bulfinch  Cheltenham  Bold 

Caslon  Oldstyle  No.  54o  Cheltenham  Bold,  Condensed 

Century  Oldstyle  Cheltenham  Italic 

Century  Oldstyle,  Bold  Cheltenham  Wide 

[.a6] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:  THE  PROBLEM 

Clearface  Delia  Robbia 

Clcarface  Italic  DeYinne  No.  a 

Clearface  Bold  DeYinne  INo.  2,  Italic 

Clearface  Bold  Italic  Franklin  Gothic 

Cushing  No.  3  Jenson  Oldstyle  No.  2 

Cusliing  Oldstylc  No.  2  News  Gothic 

Cusiiing  Monotone  Ronaldson  Oldstyle  No.  55 1 

Of  these,  omitting  the  boldface  and  italic  types,  as  well 
as  all  capitals,  the  six  best  text  types,  ranging  in  average 
distance  of  recognition  from  2  36.4  to  2  24-3,  are  News 
Gothic,  Bulfinch,  Clearface,  Century  Oldstyle,  Century 
Expanded,  and  Cheltenham  YVide.  The  six  worst,  ranging 
from  206.4  to  i85.6,  are  Cheltenham  Oldstyle,  DeYinne 
No.  2,  American  Typewriter,  Caslon  Oldstyle,  Cushing 
Monotone,  and  Cushing  No.  2.  The  author  says,  comment- 
ing on  these  findings : 

If  legibility  is  to  be  our  sole  criterion  of  excellence  of  type- 
face, News  Gothic  must  be  regarded  as  our  nearest  approxima- 
tion to  an  ideal  face,  in  so  far  as  the  present  investigation  is  able 
to  decide  this  question.  The  esthetic  factor  must  always  be  taken 
into  account,  however,  here  as  elsewhere.  And  the  reader  who 
prefers  the  appearance  of  Cushing  Oldstyle  or  a  Century  face 
may  gratify  his  esthetic  demands  without  any  considerable  sacri- 
fice of  legibility. 

To  what  extent  these  conclusions  may  be  modified  by 
future  experiments  it  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  predict, 
but  they  clearly  point  the  way  towards  definiteness  and 
boldness  in  the  design  of  types  as  well  as  to  a  preference 
for  the  larger  sizes  in  their  use.  All  this,  as  we  shall  see 
in  the  next  chapter,  is  in  harmony  with  what  experience 
has  been  gradually  confirming  in  the  practice  of  the  last 
generation. 

[  127  ] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:  PROGRESS 


HE  late  John  Bartlett,  whose  "Familiar 
Quotations"  have  encircled  the  globe,  once 
remarked  to  a  youthful  visitor  that  it  was 
a  source  of  great  comfort  to  him  that  in 
collecting  books  in  his  earlier  years  he 
had  chosen  editions  printed  in  large  type, 
"for  now,"  he  said,  "I  am  able  to  read  them."  The  fad- 
ing eyesight  of  old  age  does  not  necessarily  set  the  norm  of 
print;  but  this  is  certain,  that  what  age  reads  without  diffi- 
culty youth  will  read  without  strain,  and  in  view  of  the 
excessive  burden  put  upon  the  eyes  by  the  demands  of 
modern  life,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  consider  whether  it 
is  not  wise  to  err  on  the  safer  side  as  regards  the  size  of 
type,  even  by  an  ample  margin. 

It  is  now  some  thirty-five  years  since  the  first  scientific 
experiments  upon  the  relations  of  type  to  vision  were  made 
in  France  and  Germany.  It  was  peculiarly  fitting,  we  may 
remark,  that  the  investigation  should  have  started  in  those 
two  countries,  for  the  German  alphabet  is  notoriously  hard 
on  the  eyes,  and  the  French  alphabet  is  encumbered  with 
accents,  which  form  an  integral  part  of  the  written  word, 
and  yet  are  always  mmute  and  in  poor  print  exceedingly 
hard  to  distinguish.  The  result  of  the  investigation  was  a 
vigorous  disapproval  of  the  German  type  itself  and  of  the 
French  accents  and  the  favorite  style  of  letter  in  France, 
the  condensed.  It  was  pointed  out  that  progress  in  type 
design  towards  the  hygienic  ideal  must  follow  the  direction 

[..8] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:    PROGRESS 

of  simplicity,  uniformity,  and  relative  heaviness  of  line, 
with  wide  letters  and  short  descenders,  all  in  type  of  suf- 
ficient size  for  easy  reading.  In  the  generation  that  has 
succeeded  these  experiments  have  we  made  any  progress  in 
adapting  print  to  eyes  along  the  lines  of  these  conclusions? 
The  printer  might  well  olfer  in  proof  of  such  progress  the 
page  in  which  these  words  are  presented  to  the  reader.  In 
the  four  and  a  half  centuries  of  printing,  pages  of  equal 
clearness  and  beauty  niay  be  found  if  one  knows  just  where 
to  look  for  them,  but  the  later  examples  all  fall  within  the 
period  that  we  are  discussing.  It  may  be  objected  that  this 
is  the  luxury  of  printing,  not  its  everyday  necessity,  and  this 
objection  must  be  allowed;  but  luxuries  are  a  powerful 
factor  in  elevating  the  standard  of  living,  and  this  is  as  true 
of  print  as  of  food  and  dress.  It  must  be  confessed  that  an 
unforeseen  influence  made  itself  felt  early  in  the  generation 
under  discussion,  that  of  William  Morris  and  his  Kelmscott 
Press.  Morris's  types  began  and  ended  in  the  Gothic  or 
Germanic  spirit,  and  their  excellence  lies  rather  in  the 
beauty  of  each  single  letter  than  in  the  effective  mass-play 
of  the  letters  in  words.  Kelmscott  books,  therefore,  in 
spite  of  their  decorative  beauty,  are  not  easy  reading.  In 
this  respect  they  differ  greatly  from  those  of  Bodoni,^  whose 
types  to  Morris  and  his  followers  appeared  weak  and  ugly. 
Bodoni's  letters  play  together  with  perfect  accord,  and  his 
pages,  as  a  whole,  possess  a  statuesque  if  not  a  decorative 
beauty.  If  the  reader  is  not  satisfied  with  the  testimony  of 
the  page  now  before  him,  let  him  turn  to  the  Bodoni 
Horace  of  1791,  in  folio,  where,  in  addition  to  the  noble 
roman  text  of  the  poems,  he  will   find  an   extremely  clear 

^  The  type  in  which  this  book  is  printed  is  a  modern  Bodoni,  cut  in  Italy,  and 
was  chosen  for  its  elegance  rather  than  to  illustrate  the  latest  results  in  legibility 
of  type  design. 

[    129] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

and  interesting  italic  employed  in  the  preface,  virtually 
a  "library  hand"  script.  But  no  force  has  told  more  power- 
fully for  clearness  and  strength  in  types  than  the  influence 
of  Morris,  and  if  he  had  done  only  this  for  printing  he 
would  have  earned  our  lasting  gratitude. 

Morris  held  that  no  type  smaller  than  long  primer  should 
ever  be  employed  in  a  book  intended  for  continuous  read- 
ing; and  here  again,  in  size  of  type  as  distinguished  from 
its  cut,  he  made  himself  an  exponent  of  one  of  the  great 
forward  movements  that  have  so  happily  characterized  the 
recent  development  of  printing.  Go  to  any  public  library 
and  look  at  the  novels  issued  from  i85o  to  1880.  Unless 
your  memory  is  clear  on  this  point,  you  will  be  amazed  to 
see  what  small  print  certain  publishers  inflicted  with  ap- 
parent impunity  on  their  patrons  during  this  period.  The 
practice  extended  to  editions  of  popular  authors  like  Dickens 
and  Thackeray,  editions  that  now  find  no  readers,  or  find 
them  only  among  the  nearsighted. 

The  cheap  editions  of  the  present  day,  on  the  contrary, 
may  be  poor  in  paper  and  perhaps  in  press  work,  they  may 
be  printed  from  worn  plates,  but  in  size  and  even  in  cut 
of  type  they  are  generally  irreproachable.  As  regards  near- 
sighted readers,  it  is  well  known  that  they  prefer  fine  type 
to  coarse,  choosing,  for  instance,  a  Bible  printed  in  dia- 
mond, and  finding  it  clear  and  easy  to  read,  while  they  can 
hardly  read  pica  at  all.  This  fact,  in  connection  with  the 
former  tolerance  of  fine  print,  raises  the  question  whether 
the  world  was  not  more  nearsighted  two  generations  ago 
than  it  is  now ;  or  does  this  only  mean  that  the  oculist  is 
abroad  in  the  land? 

It  is  recognized  that,  in  books  not  intended  for  con- 
tinuous reading,  small  and  even  fine  type  may  properly  be 
employed.     That  miracle  of  encyclopedic  information,  the 

[.3o] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:    PROGRESS 

World  Almanac,  while  it  might  be  printed  better  and  on 
a  higher  quality  of  paper,  could  not  be  the  handy  reference 
book  that  it  is  without  the  use  of  a  type  that  would  be  in- 
tolerably small  in  a  novel  or  a  history.  With  the  increase 
of  the  length  of  continuous  use  for  which  the  book  is  in- 
tended, the  size  of  the  type  should  increase  up  to  a  certain 
point.  Above  eleven-point,  or  small  pica,  however,  increase 
in  the  size  of  type  becomes  a  matter  not  of  hygiene,  but 
simply  of  esthetics.  But  below  the  normal  the  printer's 
motto  should  be:   In  case  of  doubt  choose  the  larger  type. 

A  development  of  public  taste  that  is  in  line  with  this 
argument  is  the  passing  of  the  large-paper  edition.  It  was 
always  an  anomaly ;  but  our  fathers  did  not  stop  to  reason 
that,  if  a  page  has  the  right  proportions  at  the  start,  mere 
increase  of  margin  cannot  enhance  its  beauty  or  dignity.  At 
most  it  can  only  lend  it  a  somewhat  deceptive  appearance 
of  costliness,  with  which  was  usually  coupled  whatever 
attraction  there  might  be  in  the  restriction  of  this  special 
edition  to  a  very  few  copies.  So  they  paid  many  dollars  a 
pound  for  mere  blank  paper  and  fancied  that  they  were 
getting  their  money's  worth.  The  most  inappropriate 
books  were  put  out  in  large  paper,  Webster's  Unabridged 
Dictionary,  for  instance.  At  the  other  extreme  of  size  may 
be  cited  the  Pickering  diamond  classics,  also  in  a  large- 
paper  edition,  pretty,  dainty  little  books,  with  their  Lilli- 
putian character  only  emphasized  by  their  excess  of  white 
paper.  But  their  print  is  too  fine  to  read,  and  their  margins 
are  out  of  proportion  to  the  printed  page.  Though  their 
type  is  small,  they  by  no  means  exhibit  the  miracle  of  the 
books  printed  in  Didot's  "microscopic  "  type,  and  they 
represent  effort  in  a  direction  that  has  no  meaning  for  book- 
making,  but  remains  a  mere  tour  de  force.  Quite  different 
is  the  case  with  the  Oxford  miniature  editions,  of  the  same 

[i3i] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

size  outwardly  as  the  large-paper  editions  of  the  Pickering 
diamond  classics ;  these  are  modern  miracles,  for  with  all 
their  "infinite  riches  in  a  little  room,"  they  are  distinctly 
legible. 

As  regards  the  design  of  type,  the  recent  decades  have 
given  us  our  choice  among  type-faces  at  once  so  beautiful 
and  so  clear  as  the  Century  Oldstyle,  Century  Expanded, 
and  Cheltenham  Wide.  To  those  should  be  added  Mr. 
Goudy's  virile  Kennerley.  Still  later  have  appeared,  in 
direct  descent  from  one  of  Jenson's  type-faces.  Cloister  and 
Centaur,  two  of  the  most  beautiful  types  of  any  age  or 
country,  and  both,  if  we  may  judge  by  comparison  with  the 
types  approved  by  the  Clark  University  experiments,  also 
among  the  most  legible.  Fortunately  in  type  design  there 
is  no  essential  conflict  between  beauty  and  use,  but  rather 
a  natural  harmony.  Already  a  high  degree  of  legibility 
has  been  attained  without  sacrifice;  the  future  is  full  of 
promise. 

In  respect  to  books,  we  may  congratulate  ourselves  that 
printing  has  made  real  progress  in  the  last  generation 
towards  meeting  the  primary  demand  of  legibility.  The 
form  of  print,  however,  which  is  read  by  the  greatest  num- 
ber of  eyes,  the  newspaper,  shows  much  less  advance.  Yet 
newspapers  have  improved  in  presswork,  and  the  typeset- 
ting machines  have  removed  the  evil  of  worn  type.  More- 
over, a  new  element  has  come  to  the  front  that  played  a 
much  more  subordinate  part  three  or  four  decades  ago  — 
the  headline.  "Let  me  write  the  headlines  of  a  people," 
said  the  late  Henry  D.  Lloyd  to  the  writer,  "and  I  care  not 
who  makes  its  laws."  It  is  the  staring  headlines  that  form 
the  staple  of  the  busy  man's  newspaper  reading,  and  they 
are  certainly  hygienic  for  the  eyes  if  not  always  for  the 
mind.     While  the  trend  towards  larger  and  clearer   type 

[i3a] 


TYPES  AND  EYES:    PROGRESS 

has  gone  on  chiefly  without  the  consciousness  of  the  pubHc, 
it  has  not  been  merely  a  reform  imposed  from  without. 
The  public  prefers  readable  print,  demands  it,  and  is  ready 
to  pay  for  it.  The  magazines  have  long  recognized  this 
phase  of  public  taste.  When  the  newspapers  have  done 
the  same,  the  eyes  of  coming  generations  will  be  relieved 
of  a  strain  that  can  only  be  reaHzed  by  those  who  in  that 
day  shall  turn  as  a  matter  of  antiquarian  curiosity  to  the 
torturing  fine  print  that  so  thickly  beset  the  pathway  of 
knowledge  from  the  sixteenth  to  the  nineteenth  century, 
and,  in  the  twentieth,  overthrown  in  the  field  of  books  and 
magazines,  made  its  last,  wavering  stand  in  the  newspapers. 


[.33] 


EXCEPTIONS  TO   THE   RULE  OF 
LEGIBILITY 


INGE  print  is  meant  primarily  to  be  read, 
the  first  law  of  its  being  is  legibility.  As 
a  general  principle  this  must  be  accepted, 
but  in  the  application  certain  important 
reservations  must  be  made,  all  relating 
themselves  to  the  question  how  the  print 
is  to  be  read.  For  straightaw^ay,  long-time  reading,  or  for 
reading  in  which  the  aim  is  to  get  at  the  words  of  the 
author  with  the  least  hindrance,  the  law  of  legibility  holds 
to  its  full  extent — is,  in  fact,  an  axiom;  but  not  all  read- 
ing is  long-continued,  and  not  all  is  apart  from  considera- 
tions other  than  instantaneous  contact  with  the  author's 
thought  through  his  words.  It  is  these  two  classes  of 
exceptions  that  we  have  now  to  consider. 

Let  us  begin  with  an  example  outside  the  field  of  typog- 
raphy. On  the  first  issue  of  the  Lincoln  cent  were  various 
sizes  of  lettering,  the  largest  being  devoted  to  the  words 
which  denote  the  value  of  the  coin,  and  the  smallest,  quite 
undistinguishable  in  ordinary  handling,  to  the  initials  of 
the  designer,  afterwards  discarded.  Obviously  these  sizes 
were  chosen  with  reference  to  their  power  to  attract  atten- 
tion ;  in  the  one  case  an  excess  of  legibility  and  in  the  other 
case,  quite  as  properly,  its  deficiency.  Thus,  what  is  not 
designed  for  the  cursory  reader's  eye,  but  serves  only  as  a 
record  to  be  consulted  by  those  who  are  specially  interested 
in  it,  may,  with  propriety,  be  made  so  inconspicuous  as 

[  134  ] 


EXCEPTIONS  TO  THE  RULE  OF  LEGIBILITY 

)  be  legible  only  by  a  distinct  effort.  Cases  in  everyday 
y^pography  are  the  signatures  of  books  and  the  cabalistic 
yinbols  that  indicate  to  the  newspaper  counting  room  the 
Landing  of  advertisements.  Both  are  customarily  rendered 
iconsplcuous  through  obscure  position,  and  if  to  this  be 
dded  the  relative  illegibility  of  fine  type,  the  average 
eader  w^ill  not  complain,  for  all  will  escape  his  notice. 

Again,  we  may  say  that  what  is  not  intended  for  ordi- 
ary  continuous  reading  may,  without  criticism,  be  con- 
igned  to  type  below  normal  size.  Certain  classes  of  books 
lat  are  intended  only  for  brief  consultation  come  under 
lis  head,  the  best  examples  being  encyclopedias,  dictiona- 
ies,  and  almanacs.  As  compactness  is  one  of  their  prime 
equisites,  it  is  a  mistake  to  put  them  into  type  even  com- 
3rtably  large.  The  reader  opens  them  only  for  momentary 
eference,  and  he  can  well  afford  to  sacrifice  a  certain  degree 
f  legibility  to  handiness.    The  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  is 

classic  instance  of  a  work  made  bulky  by  type  unneces- 
arily  coarse  for  its  purpose;  the  later,  amazingly  clear, 
hotographic  reduction  of  the  Britannica  volumes  is  a 
ecognition  of  this  initial  mistake.  The  Century  and  Ox- 
3rd  dictionaries,  on  the  other  hand,  are  splendid  examples 
f  the  judicious  employment  of  fine  print  for  the  purpose 
oth  of  condensation  and  the  gradation  of  emphasis.  One 
as  only  to  contrast  with  these  a  similar  work  in  uniform 
j]ye,  such  as  Littre's  Dictionnaire,  to  appreciate  their 
uperiority  for  ready  reference. 

The  departure  from  legibility  that  we  have  thus  far  con- 
idered  has  related  to  the  size  of  the  letters.  Another 
qually  marked  departure  is  possible  in  respect  to  their 
hape.  In  business  printing,  especially  in  newspaper  ad- 
ertisements,  men  are  sometimes  tempted  to  gain  amount 
t  the  risk  of  undue  fineness  of  type.     But  no  advertiser 

[.35] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

who  counts  the  cost  will  take  the  chance  of  rendering  his 
announcement  unreadable  by  the  use  of  ornamental  or 
otherwise  imperfectly  legible  letters.  He  sets  no  value  upon 
the  form  save  as  a  carrier  of  substance.  In  works  of  litera- 
ture, on  the  contrary,  form  may  take  on  an  importance  of 
its  own ;  it  may  even  be  made  tributary  to  the  substance 
at  some  cost  to  legibility. 

In  this  field  there  is  room  for  type  the  chief  merit  of 
which  is  apart  from  its  legibility.  In  other  words,  there 
is  and  always  will  be  a  place  for  beauty  in  typography, 
even  though  it  involve  a  certain  loss  of  clearness.  As  re- 
lated to  the  total  bulk  of  printing,  works  of  this  class  never 
can  amount  to  more  than  a  fraction  of  one  per  cent.  But 
their  proportion  in  the  library  of  a  cultivated  man  would 
be  vastly  greater,  possibly  as  high  as  fifty  per  cent.  In 
such  works  the  esthetic  sense  demands  not  merely  that  the 
type  be  a  carrier  of  the  alphabet,  but  also  that  it  interpret 
or  at  least  harmonize  with  the  subject-matter.  Who  ever 
saw  Mr.  Updike's  specimen  pages  for  an  edition  of  the 
"Imitatio  Ghristi,"  in  old  English  type,  without  a  desire 
to  possess  the  completed  work?  Yet  we  have  editions  of 
the  "Imitatio"  that  are  far  more  legible  and  convenient. 
The  "Prayers"  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  have  several  times 
been  published  in  what  we  may  call  tribute  typography; 
but  no  edition  has  yet  attained  to  a  degree  of  homage  that 
satisfies  the  lovers  of  those  unaffected  devotional  exercises. 

What,  therefore,  shall  be  the  typography  of  books  that 
we  love,  that  we  know  by  heart?  In  them,  surely,  beauty 
and  fitness  may  precede  legibility  unchallenged.  These  are 
the  books  that  we  most  desire  and  cherish ;  this  is  the 
richest  field  for  the  typographic  artist,  and  one  that  we 
venture  to  pronounce,  in  spite  of  all  that  has  yet  been  done, 
still  almost  untilled.      Such  books  need  not  be  expensive; 

['36] 


EXCEPTIONS  TO  THE  RULE  OF  LEGIBILITY 

we  can  imagine  a  popular  series  that  should  deserve  the 
name  of  tribute  typography.  Certain  recent  editions  of  the 
German  classics,  perhaps,  come  nearer  to  justifying  such 
a  claim  than  any  contemporary  British  or  American  work. 
In  more  expensive  publications  some  of  Mr.  Mosher's  work, 
like  his  quarto  edition  of  Burton's  "Kasidah,"  merits  a 
place  in  this  class.  A  better  known,  if  older,  instance  is 
the  holiday  edition  of  Longfellow's  "Skeleton  in  Armor." 
Who  would  not  rather  read  the  poem  in  this  Old  English 
type  than  in  any  Roman  type  in  which  it  has  ever  been 
printed?  The  work  of  the  Kelmscott  Press  obviously  falls 
within  this  class. 

The  truth  is,  there  is  a  large  body  of  favorite  literature 
which  we  are  glad  to  be  made  to  linger  over,  to  have,  in 
its  perusal,  a  brake  put  upon  the  speed  of  our  reading ; 
and  in  no  way  can  this  be  done  so  agreeably  as  by  a  typog- 
raphy that  possesses  a  charm  of  its  own  to  arrest  the  eye. 
Such  a  delay  increases  while  it  prolongs  the  pleasure  of 
our  reading.  The  typography  becomes  not  only  a  frame 
to  heighten  the  beauty  of  the  picture,  but  also  a  spell  to 
lengthen  our  enjoyment  of  it.  It  cannot  be  expected  that 
the  use  of  impressive  type  will  be  confined  to  literature. 
That  worthiest  use  will  find  the  field  already  invaded  by 
pamphlet  and  leaflet  advertisements,  and  this  invasion  is 
certain  to  increase  as  the  public  taste  becomes  trained  to 
types  that  make  an  esthetic  appeal  of  their  own. 

Ordinary  type  is  the  result  of  an  attempt  to  combine 
with  legibility  an  all-round  fitness  of  expression.  But  that 
very  universality  robs  it  of  special  appropriateness  for 
works  of  a  strongly  marked  character.  It  is  impossible  to 
have  a  new  type  designed  for  every  new  work,  but  classes 
of  types  are  feasible,  each  adapted  to  a  special  class  of 
literature.     Already  there  is  a  tendency  to  seek  for  poetry  a 

[i37] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

type  that  is  at  least  removed  from  the  commonplace.  But 
hitherto  the  recognition  of  this  principle  has  been  only  oc- 
casional and  haphazard.  Where  much  is  to  be  gained  much 
also  can  be  lost,  and  interpretative  or  expressional  typog- 
raphy that  misses  the  mark  may  easily  be  of  a  kind  to 
make  the  judicious  grieve.  But  the  rew^ards  of  success 
warrant  the  risk.  The  most  beautiful  of  recent  types,  the 
Nevv^  Humanistic,  designed  for  The  University  Press,  has 
hardly  yet  been  used.  Let  us  hope  that  it  may  soon  find 
its  wider  mission  so  successfully  as  to  furnish  an  ideal 
confirmation  of  the  principle  that  we  have  here  been  seek- 
ing to  establish. 


[,38] 


THE  STUDENT  AND  THE  LIBRARY 


HAT  does  a  student  of  five  and  twenty 
years  ago  still  remember  of  his  college? 
;  My  own  first  and  fondest  recollection  is  of 
the  walks  and  talks,  nodes  coenaeque  deum, 
with  loved  and  honored  companions,  in 
the  bonds  of  a  friendship  that  can  be 
realized  only  in  youth,  under  the  inspiration  of  a  common 
intellectual  purpose,  and,  one  is  tempted  to  add,  in  the 
atmosphere  of  college  halls ;  next  arise  golden  hours  passed 
in  the  library;  and  lastly  there  come  back  other  hours,  not 
always  golden,  spent  in  the  classroom.  This  is,  of  course, 
only  to  enumerate  the  three  influences  that  are,  or  should 
be,  strongest  in  a  student's  life  :  the  society  of  his  fellows, 
his  private  reading,  and  his  studies.  Of  these  three  factors 
of  culture  the  first  and  the  last  are  fairly  constant,  but  the 
second  is  apt  to  vary  in  the  experience  of  any  small  group 
of  students  from  the  foremost  place,  as  in  the  case  of  John 
Hay,  to  no  place  at  all.  It  is  of  this  varying  element  in  the 
student's  conduct  of  life  that  I  have  undertaken  to  write. 

Unless  student  intercourse  has  an  intellectual  basis,  such 
as  reading  furnishes,  it  has  nothing  to  distinguish  it  from 
any  other  good  fellowship  and  can  hardly  escape  triviality. 
The  little  groups  of  students  at  Cambridge  which  included 
such  members  as  the  three  Tennysons,  Hallam,  Spedding, 
Fitzgerald,  and  Thackeray,  while  they  were  no  doubt  jovial 
enough,  were  first  of  all  intellectual  associations,  where 

Thought  leapt  out  to  wed  with  Thought 
Ere  Thought  could  wed  itself  with  Speech. 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

In  such  companionship  men  not  only  share  and  correct  the 
culture  which  thej  have  acquired  in  private,  but  they  are 
stimulated  to  higher  and  w^ider  attainment.  The  classroom 
at  its  best  is  hardly  equal  to  a  good  book;  from  its  very 
nature  it  must  address  an  abstract  average  rather  than  the 
individual,  w^hile  a  good  book  startles  us  with  the  intimacy 
of  its  revelation  to  ourselves.  The  student  goes  to  college 
to  study  ;  he  has  his  name  thence.  But  while  the  classroom 
is  busied,  patiently,  sedulously  doling  him  out  silver,  he 
discovers  that  there  is  gold  lying  all  around,  which  he  may 
take  without  asking.  Twenty-five  years  after  he  finds  that 
the  silver  has  grown  black  with  rust,  while  the  gold  shines 
on  untarnished.  Librarians  are  often  besought  for  a  guide 
in  reading,  a  set  of  rules,  a  list  of  books.  But  what  is 
really  needed,  and  what  no  mentor  can  give,  is  a  hunger 
and  thirst  after  what  is  in  books ;  and  this  the  student  must 
acquire  for  himself  or  forego  the  blessing.  Culture  can- 
not be  vicarious.  This  is  not  to  say  that  a  list  of  books 
may  not  be  useful,  or  that  one  set  of  books  is  as  good  as 
another,  but  only  that  reading  is  the  thing,  and,  given  the 
impulse  to  read,  the  how  and  the  what  can  be  added  unto  it; 
but  without  this  energizing  motive,  no  amount  of  oppor- 
tunity or  nurture  will  avail. 

But,  having  not  the  desire  to  read,  but  only  a  sense  that 
he  ought  to  have  it,  what  shall  a  student  do?  I  will  sug- 
gest three  practicable  courses  from  which  a  selection  may 
bo  made  according  to  the  needs  of  the  individual.  The  first 
is  to  sit  down  and  take  account  of  stock,  to  map  out  one's 
knowledge,  one's  previous  reading,  and  so  find  the  inner 
bonndaries  of  the  vast  region  yet  to  be  explored.  This 
procoss  can  hardly  fail  to  suggest  not  merely  one  point  of 
departure,  but  many.  The  second  method  is,  without  even 
so  much  casting  about,  to  set  forth  in  any  direction,  take 

[.4o] 


THE  STUDENT  AND  THE  LIBRARY 

he  first  attractive  unread  book  at  hand,  and  let  that  lead 
o  others.  The  third  course  is  intended  for  the  student 
A'hose  previous  reading  has  been  so  scanty  and  so  perfunc- 
orj  as  to  allbrd  him  no  outlook  into  literature,  a  case, 
^^hich,  it  is  to  be  feared,  is  only  too  common.  We  will 
consider  this  method  first.  Obviously  such  a  student  must 
)e  furnished  with  a  guide,  one  who  shall  set  his  feet  in 
he  right  paths,  give  him  his  bearings  in  literature,  and 
nspirc  him  with  a  love  for  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the 
;cenery  disclosed,  so  that  he  shall  become  not  only  able  to 
nake  the  rest  of  his  journey  alone,  but  eager  to  set  out. 

Where  shall  the  student  find  such  a  guide?  There  are 
nany  and  good  at  hand,  yet  perhaps  the  best  are  not  the 
)rofessional  ones,  but  rather  those  who  give  us  micrely  a 
lelightful  companionship  and  invite  us  to  share  their  own 
avorite  walks  in  Bookland.  Such  a  choice  companion,  to 
lame  but  one,  awaits  the  student  in  Hazlitt's  "Lectures  on 
he  English  Poets."  Of  the  author  himiself  Charles  Lamb 
ays :  "I  never  slackened  in  my  admiration  of  him ;  and  I 
hink  I  shall  go  to  my  grave  without  finding,  or  expecting  to 
ind,  such  another  companion."  And  of  his  books  Steven- 
ion  confesses  :  ' '  We  are  mighty  fine  fellows,  but  we  cannot 
vrite  like  William  Hazlitt."  In  this  little  volume  which 
he  most  hard-pressed  student  can  read  and  ponder  in  the 
eisure  moments  of  a  single  term,  the  reader  is  introduced 
it  once  into  the  wonderland  of  our  English  literature,  which 
le  is  made  to  realize  at  the  outset  is  an  indivisible  portion 
)f  the  greater  territory  of  the  literature  of  the  world. 

Hazlitt  begins  with  a  discussion  of  poetry  in  general, 
ihows  what  poetry  is,  how  its  various  forms  move  us,  and 
low  it  differs  from  its  next  of  kin,  such  as  eloquence  and 
'omance.  He  then  takes  up  the  poetry  of  Homer,  the 
Bible,   Dante,  and  Ossian,  and   sets  forth  the  characterise 

[.4i] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

tics  of  each.  In  his  chapter  on  our  first  two  great  poets, 
Chaucer  and  Spenser,  he  points  out  the  great  and  contrasted 
merits  of  these  two  writers  who  have  so  Uttle  in  common 
except  a  superficial  resemblance  in  language.  Hazlitt  is 
fond  of  presenting  his  authors  to  us  in  pairs  or  groups. 
Ills  next  chapter  is  devoted  to  Shakespeare  and  Milton ;  and 
we  may  remark  that,  while  the  student  is  in  no  danger  of 
forgetting  the  existence  of  Shakespeare,  he  is  likely  to  need 
just  such  a  tribute  to  the  greatness  of  Milton  as  the  critic 
here  presents.  The  volume  contains  later  chapters  of  great 
interest  on  Milton's  "Lycidas  "  and  "Eve."  It  is  not  neces- 
sary for  us  to  mention  here  all  the  subjects  treated;  Dryden 
and  Pope,  Thomson  and  Gowper,  Burns  and  the  Old  Eng- 
lish Ballads  are  among  them.  In  every  case  we  are  not 
tantalized  with  mere  estimates  and  characterizations,  but 
are  furnished  with  illustrative  specimens  of  the  poems  dis- 
cussed. But  the  initiation  into  English  literature  which 
we  receive  from  Hazlitt  does  not  end  with  the  authors  of 
whom  he  treats  directly.  Resuming  our  figure  of  a  land- 
scape, we  may  say  that  he  takes  us  through  a  thousand 
bypaths  into  charming  nooks  and  upon  delightful  prospects 
of  which  he  has  made  no  announcement  beforehand. 

I  spoke  of  reading  and  pondering  his  book  in  a  single 
college  term.  But,  while  this  may  easily  be  done,  it  will 
be  far  more  profitable  for  the  student,  as  soon  as  he  feels 
drawn  away  from  the  volume  to  some  author  whom  it  pre- 
sents, to  lay  it  aside  and  make  an  excursion  of  his  own 
into  literature.  Then  let  him  take  up  the  volume  again 
and  go  on  with  it  until  the  critic's  praise  of  the  ' '  Faerie 
Quecne,"  or  the  "Rape  of  the  Lock,"  or  the  "Castle  of 
Indolence"  again  draws  his  attention  off  the  essay  to  the 
poem  itself.  And  as  one  poem  and  one  author  will  lead  to 
another,  the  volume  with  which  the  student  set  out  will  thus 

[  '^'^  ] 


THE  STUDENT  AND  THE  LIBRARY 

gradually  fulfill  its  highest  mission  by  inspiring  and  train- 
ing its  reader  to  do  without  it.  If  the  student  has  access 
to  the  shelves  of  a  large  library,  the  very  handling  of  the 
books  in  their  groups  will  bring  him  into  contact  with 
other  books  which  he  will  be  attracted  to  and  will  dip 
into  and  read.  In  fact  it  should  not  be  long  before  he 
finds  his  problem  to  be,  not  what  to  read,  but  what  to 
resist  reading. 

Suppose,  however,  that  the  student  finds  himself  already 
possessed  of  a  vague,  general  knowledge  of  literature,  but 
nothing  definite  or  satisfying,  nothing  that  inspires  interest. 
He  it  is  who  may  profitably  take  up  the  first  attractive  un- 
read book  at  hand;  but  he  should  endeavor  to  read  it,  not 
as  an  isolated  fragment  of  literature,  but  in  its  relations. 
Suppose  the  book  happens  to  be  "Don  Quixote."  This  is 
a  work  written  primarily  to  amuse.  But  if  the  reader  throws 
himself  into  the  spirit  of  the  book,  he  will  not  be  content, 
for  instance,  with  the  mere  mention  of  the  romances  of 
chivalry  which  turned  the  poor  knight's  brain.  He  will 
want  to  read  about  them  and  to  read  some  of  them  actually. 
He  will  be  curious  as  to  Charlemagne  and  his  peers,  Arthur 
and  his  knights,  and  will  seek  to  know  their  true  as  well 
as  their  fabulous  history.  Then  he  will  wonder  who  the 
Moors  were,  why  they  were  banished,  and  what  was  the 
result  to  Spain  of  this  act  in  which  even  his  liberal  and 
kindly  author  acquiesced.  He  will  ask  if  antiquity  had  its 
romances  and  if  any  later  novelists  were  indebted  to  Cer- 
vantes. The  answer  to  the  last  query  will  bring  him  to 
Gil  Bias  in  French  literature  and  to  the  works  of  the  great 
English  romancers  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Fielding 
will  lead  him  to  Thackeray,  Smollett  to  Dickens,  Dickens 
to  Bret  Harte,  and  Bret  Harte  to  Kipling.  If  he  reads  Cer- 
vantes in  English,   he  will  have  a   choice  of  translations, 

[i43] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

and  he  will  not  fail  to  mark  the  enormous  difference  in 
language,  literary  style,  and  ideals  of  rendering  between 
the  three  versions  of  Shelton  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
Motteux  in  the  eighteenth,  and  Ormsby  in  the  nineteenth. 
If,  like  many  another,  he  becomes  so  interested  in  the 
great  romance  as  to  learn  Spanish  for  the  sake  of  coming 
into  direct  communication  with  his  author,  a  whole  new 
literature  will  be  opened  to  him.  Furthermore,  in  the 
cognate  languages  which  a  mastery  of  Spanish  will  make 
easy  for  him,  a  group  of  literatures  will  be  placed  at  his 
command;  and,  while  he  began  with  Cervantes,  who  threw 
open  for  him  the  portals  of  the  middle  ages,  we  may  leave 
him  with  Dante,  looking  before  and  after  over  all  human 
achievement  and  destiny. 

All  this  the  student  will  not  do  in  one  term  nor  in  one 
year,  but  he  will  have  found  himself  in  the  library,  he  will 
have  acquired  a  bond  to  culture  that  will  not  break  as  he 
steps  out  of  his  last  recitation,  that  will  not  yield  when 
time  and  distance  have  relegated  his  college  friendships, 
with  his  lost  youth,  to  the  Eden  or  the  Avilion  of  memory. 
And  if  afterwards  he  comes,  with  Emerson,  to  find  the 
chief  value  of  his  college  training  in  the  ability  it  has  given 
him  to  recognize  its  little  avail,  he  will  thus  disparage  it 
only  in  the  spirit  in  which  a  more  advanced  student  of  an 
earlier  day,  looking  back  upon  the  stupendous  revelations 
of  his  "Principia,"  likened  them  to  so  many  pebbles  or 
shells  picked  up  on  the  shore  of  the  illimitable  ocean  of 
knowledge. 


[.44] 


ORTHOGRAPHIC   REFORM 


'  l^ELDOM  have  controversies  brought  out  so 
Jl^Mf'^/iK^'W^i^  much  humor,  on  both  sides,  as  that  over 
^Aw-  ^  'XCyM  the  reform  of  Enghsh  speUing,  and  few 
have  excited  so  little  interest  in  propor- 
tion to  the  energy  expended.  Both  these 
results  are  due  perhaps  to  the  fact  that 
;lie  subject,  from  its  very  nature,  does  not  admit  of  being 
Tiade  a  burning  question.  Yet  one  has  to  look  only  a  little 
^vay  into  it  to  see  that  important  interests — educational, 
commercial,  and  possibly  racial  —  are  involved.  Thus  far  the 
champions  have  been  chiefly  the  newspapers  for  spelling  as 
t  is,  and  scholars  and  educators  for  spelling  as  it  ought  to  be. 
But,  in  spite  of  the  intelligence  of  the  disputants,  the  discus- 
don  has  been  singularly  insular  and  deficient  in  perspective. 
[t  would  gain  greatly  in  conclusiveness  if  spelling  and  its 
Tiodifications  were  considered  broadly  and  historically,  not 
IS  peculiar  to  English,  but  as  common  to  all  languages,  and 
nvolving  common  problems,  which  we  are  not  the  first  to 
grapple  with,  but  rather  seem  destined  to  be  the  last  to  solve. 
As  is  usually  the  case  in  controversies,  the  chief  obstacle 
o  agreement  is  a  lack  of  what  the  lawyers  call  a  meeting 
)f  minds.  The  two  sides  are  not  talking  about  the  same 
hing.  The  reformer  has  one  idea  of  what  spelling  is;  the 
Dublic  has  another  idea,  which  is  so  different  that  it  robs 
he  reformer's  arguments  of  nearly  all  their  force.  The 
wo  ideas  for  which  the  same  word  is  used  are  hardly  more 
ilike  than  mother  of  pearl  and  mother  of  vinegar.     To  the 

[.45] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

philologist  spelling  is  the  application  of  an  alphabet  to  the 
words  of  a  language,  and  an  alphabet  is  merely  a  system 
of  visible  signs  adapted  to  translate  to  the  eye  the  sounds 
which  make  up  the  speech  of  the  people.  To  the  public 
spelling  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  English  language,  and  to 
tamper  with  it  is  to  lay  violent  hands  on  the  sacred  ark  of 
English  literature.  To  the  philologist  an  alphabet  is  not 
a  thing  in  itself,  but  only  a  medium,  and  he  knows  many 
alphabets  of  all  degrees  of  excellence.  Among  the  latest 
formed  is  that  which  we  use  and  call  the  Roman,  but  which, 
though  it  was  taken  from  Italy,  made  its  way  back  after 
a  course  of  form  development  that  carried  it  through  Ire- 
land, England,  and  Germany.  This  alphabet  was  originally 
designed  for  writing  Latin,  and,  as  English  has  more  sounds 
than  Latin,  some  of  the  symbols  when  applied  to  English 
have  to  do  multiple  duty ;  though  this  is  the  least  of  the 
complaints  against  our  current  spelling.  In  fact  any  in- 
ventive student  of  phonetics  could  in  half  an  hour  devise 
a  better  alphabet  for  English,  and  scores  have  been  devised. 
But  the  Roman  has  the  field,  and  no  one  dreams  of  advocate 
ing  a  new  alphabet  for  popular  use.  Meanwhile,  though  the 
earliest  English  may  have  been  written  in  Runic,  and  the 
Bibles  which  our  Pilgrim  fathers  brought  over  were  printed 
in  Black-letter,  still  to  the  great  English-reading  public  the 
alphabet  of  current  books  and  papers  is  the  only  alphabet. 
Even  this  is  a  double  alphabet,  consisting  as  it  does  of  capitals 
and  small  letters;  and  we  have  besides  Italic,  Black-letter,  and 
Script,  all  in  common  use,  all  with  double  forms,  and  alldifier- 
ing  greatly  from  one  another.  At  best  the  Roman  alphabet, 
though  beautiful  and  practical,  is  not  so  beautiful  as  the  Greek 
nor  nearly  so  elFicicnt  for  representing  English  sounds  as  the 
Cherokee  syllabary  invented  by  the  half-breed,  Sequoyah,  is 
for  representing  the  sounds  of  his  mother  tongue. 

[i46] 


ORTIIOGRAPIIIG  REFORM 

Let  us  now  turn  from  the  alphabet,  which  is  the  founda- 
tion of  spelling,  to  speUing  ilself.  Given  a  scientific  al|)habet, 
spelling,  as  a  problem,  vanishes;  for  there  is  only  one  possi- 
ble spelling  for  any  spoken  word,  and  only  one  possible 
pronunciation  for  any  written  word.  Both  are  perfectly 
easy,  for  there  is  no  choice,  and  no  one  who  knows  the 
alphabet  can  make  a  mistake  in  either.  But  given  a  tradi- 
tional alphabet  encumbered  with  outgrown  or  impracticable 
or  blundering  associations,  and  spelling  may  become  so 
difficult  as  to  serve  for  a  test  or  hallmark  of  scholarship. 
In  French,  for  instance,  the  alphabet  has  drifted  so  far 
from  its  moorings  that  no  one  on  hearing  a  new  word 
spoken,  if  it  contains  certain  sounds,  can  be  sure  of  its 
spelling;  though  every  one  on  seeing  a  new  word  written 
knows  how  to  pronounce  it.  But  in  English  our  alphabet 
has  actually  parted  the  cable  which  held  it  to  speech,  and 
we  know  neither  how  to  write  a  new  word  when  we  hear 
it  nor  how  to  pronounce  one  when  we  see  it.  Strangest  of 
all,  we  have  come,  in  our  English  insularity,  to  look  on 
this  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  Germans  and  Spaniards, 
Italians  and  Dutchmen,  have  no  such  difficulty  and  never 
have  to  turn  to  the  dictionary  to  find  out  how  to  spell  a 
word  that  they  hear  or  how  to  pronounce  a  word  that  they 
see.  For  them  spelling  and  speech  are  identical;  all  they 
have  to  make  sure  of  is  the  standard  pronunciation.  They 
have  done  what  we  have  neglected  to  do — developed  the 
alphabet  into  an  accurate  phonetic  instrument,  and  our 
neglect  is  costing  us,  throughout  the  English-speaking 
world,  merely  in  dealing  with  silent  letters,  the  incredible 
sum  of  a  hundred  million  dollars  a  year.^     Our  neighbors 

^  See  "Simplified  Spelling  in  Writing  and  Printing;  a  Publisher's  Point  of  View," 
by  Henry  Holt,  LL.D.,  ISew  York,  1906.  About  one  half  the  expense  falls  within  the 
domain  of  printing. 

[147] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

look  after  the  alphabet  and  the  spelling  looks  after  itself; 
if  the  pronunciation  changes,  the  spelling  changes  auto- 
matically, and  thus  keeps  itself  always  up  to  date. 

But  this  happy  result  has  not  been  brought  about  with- 
out effort,  the  same  kind  of  effort  that  our  reformers  are 
now  making  for  our  benefit.  In  Swedish  books  printed 
only  a  hundred  years  ago  we  find  words  printed  with  the 
letters  th  in  combination,  like  the  word  ihem,  which  had 
the  same  meaning,  and  originally  the  same  pronunciation, 
as  the  EngHsh  word.  At  that  time,  however,  Swedes  had 
long  ceased  to  be  able  to  pronounce  the  th,  but  they  kept 
the  letters  just  as  we  still  keep  the  gh  in  brought  and 
through,  though  for  centuries  no  one  who  speaks  only 
standard  English  has  been  able  to  sound  this  guttural.  In 
the  last  century  the  Swedes  reformed  their  spelling,  and 
they  now  write  the  word  as  they  pronounce  it — dem. 
German  spelHng  has  passed  through  several  stages  of  re- 
form in  recent  decades  and  is  now  almost  perfectly  phonetic. 
Germans  now  write  Brot  and  no  longer  Brod  or  Brodt. 
It  must  be  frankly  confessed  that  the  derivation  of  some 
words  is  not  so  obvious  to  the  eye  as  formerly.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  Swedish  hyra  does  not  at  once  suggest  the 
French  bureau,  which  it  exactly  reproduces  in  sound.  But 
Europeans  think  it  more  practical,  if  they  cannot  indicate 
both  pronunciation  and  etymology  in  spelling,  to  relegate 
the  less  important  to  the  dictionary.  Much,  to  be  sure,  has 
been  made  of  the  assumed  necessity  of  preserving  the  pedi- 
gree of  our  words  in  their  spelling,  but  in  many  cases  this 
is  not  done  now.  Who  thinks  of  alms  and  eleemosynary 
as  coming  from  the  same  Greek  word?  Scholars  say  that 
a  complete  phonetic  spelHng  of  English  would  actually 
restore  to  the  eye  as  much  etymology  as  it  took  away. 

But  the  most  deep-seated  opposition  to  changing  our  cur- 

[148] 


ORTHOGRAPHIC  REFORM 

rent  spelling  arises  from  its  association,  almost  identifica- 
tion, with  English  literature.  If  this  objection  were  valid 
it  would  be  final,  for  literature  is  the  highest  use  of  lan- 
guage, and  if  reformed  spelling  means  the  loss  of  our 
literature  we  should  be  foolish  to  submit  to  it.  But  at  what 
point  in  the  history  of  English  literature  would  reformed 
spelling  begin  to  work  harm?  Hardly  before  Shakespeare, 
for  the  spelling  of  Chaucer  belongs  to  the  grammatical 
stage  of  the  language  at  which  he  wrote,  and  Spenser's 
spelling  is  more  or  less  an  imitation  of  it  made  with  a 
literary  purpose.  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  however,  wrote 
substantially  modern  English,  and  they  are  therefore  at 
the  mercy  of  the  spelling  reformer — as  they  always  have 
been.  The  truth  is,  Shakespeare's  writings  have  been  re- 
spelt  by  every  generation  that  has  reprinted  them,  and  the 
modern  spelling  reformer  would  leave  them  at  least  as  near 
to  Shakespeare's  spelling  as  our  current  spelling  is.  The 
poet  himself  made  fun  of  his  contemporaries  who  said  det 
instead  of  debt,  but  what  would  he  say  of  us  who  continue 
to  write  the  word  debt,  though  it  has  not  been  so  pro- 
nounced for  three  hundred  years?  In  old  editions  (and 
how  fast  editions  grow  old!)  antiquated  spelling  is  no  ob- 
jection, it  is  rather  an  attraction;  but  new,  popular  editions 
of  the  classics  will  be  issued  in  contemporary  spelling  so 
long  as  the  preservation  of  metre  and  rhyme  permit.  We 
still  occasionally  turn  to  the  first  folio  of  Shakespeare  and 
to  the  original  editions  of  Milton's  poems  to  enjoy  their 
antique  flavor,  and,  in  the  latter  case,  to  commune  not 
only  with  a  great  poet,  but  also  with  a  vigorous  spelling 
reformer.  Thus,  whatever  changes  come  over  our  spelling, 
standard  old  editions  will  continue  to  be  prized  and  new 
editions  to  be  in  demand.  But  for  the  most  part,  though 
we    might    not    readily    understand   the   actual    speech    of 

['49] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

Shakespeare  and  Milton,  could  we  hear  it,  we  like  to  treat 
them  as  contemporaries  and  read  their  works  in  our 
everyday    spelling. 

Our  libraries,  under  spelling  reform,  will  become  anti- 
quated, but  only  a  little  faster  than  they  are  now  doing 
and  always  have  done.  Readers  who  care  for  a  book  over 
ten  years  old  are  few  in  number  and  will  not  mind  anti- 
quated spelling  in  the  future  any  more  than  they  do  now. 
The  printer,  therefore,  must  not  flatter  himself  with  the 
prospect  of  a  speedy  reprinting  of  all  the  English  classics 
in  the  new  spelling.  English  is  certain  to  have  some 
day  as  scientific  a  spelling  as  German,  but  the  change  will 
be  spread  over  decades  and  will  be  too  gradual  to  aflect 
business  appreciably.  On  the  other  hand,  he  need  not 
fear  any  loss  to  himself  in  the  public's  gain  of  the  annual 
hundred  million  dollar  tax  which  it  now  pays  for  the  luxury 
of  superfluous  letters.  Our  printer's  bills  in  the  future 
will  be  as  large  as  at  present,  but  we  shall  get  more  for 
our  money. 

It  will  indeed  be  to  the  English  race  a  strange  world  in 
which  the  spelling  book  ends  with  the  alphabet;  in  which 
there  is  no  conflict  of  standards  except  as  regards  pronun- 
ciation ;  in  which  two  years  of  a  child's  school  life  are 
rescued  from  the  needless  and  applied  to  the  useful ;  in 
which  the  stenographer  has  to  learn  not  two  systems  of 
spelling,  but  only  two  alphabets;  in  which  the  simplicity 
and  directness  of  the  English  language,  which  fit  it  to  be- 
come a  world  language,  will  not  be  defeated  by  a  spelling 
that  equals  the  difficulty  of  German  grammar;  in  which 
the  blundering  of  Dutch  printers,  like  school,  false  ety- 
mologies, like  rhyme,  and  French  garnishes,  as  in  tongue, 
no  longer  make  the  judicious  grieve;  and  in  which  the  fatal 
gift  of  bad  spelling,  which  often  accompanies  genius,  will 

[.5o] 


ORTHOGRAPHIC  REFORM 

no  longer  be  dependent  upon  the  printer  to  hide  its  ortho- 
grapliic  nakedness  from  a  public  which,  if  it  cannot  always 
spell  correctly  itself,  can  always  be  trusted  to  detect  and 
ridicule  bad  spelling.  But  it  is  a  world  which  the  English 
race  will  some  day  have,  and  which  we  may  begin  to  have 
here  and  now  if  we  will. 


[,5i] 


THE   PERVERSITIES   OF  TYPE 


Tj^^y^^^^^HAT  searching  analyst  of  the  soul,  Edgar 
t-  imfr-^^m\^i-ym  -<  j^^Ji^n  Poe,  found  among  the  springs  of 
human  nature  the  quality  of  perverseness, 
the  disposition  to  do  wrong  because  it  is 
wrong;  in  reality,  however,  Poe's  Imp 
of  the  Perverse  is  active  far  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  the  human  soul;  his  disturbances  pervade 
the  whole  world,  and  nowhere  are  they  more  noticeable 
than  in  the  printing  office.  This  is  so  because  elsewhere, 
when  things  fall  out  contrary  to  rule,  the  result  may  often 
be  neutral  or  even  advantageous ;  but  in  the  printing  office 
all  deviations,  or  all  but  a  minute  fraction,  are  wrong. 
They  are  also  conspicuous,  for,  though  the  standard  is 
nothing  less  than  perfection,  the  ordinary  human  eye  is  able 
to  apply  the  standard.  These  tricks  of  the  malicious  imp 
are  commonly  called  "misprints,"  "printer's  errors," 
"errors  of  the  press,"  or,  more  impartially,  "errata"  or 
"corrigenda,"  In  the  first  three  names  there  is  a  tinge  of 
unfairness,  because  the  printer  is  by  no  means  responsible 
for  all  the  mistakes  that  appear  in  type.  The  author  is 
usually  partly  to  blame  and  may  be  chiefly;  yet  when  he 
suflers  a  lapse  of  memory  or  knowledge,  he  usually  passes 
it  ofl*  as  a  "printer's  error."  Sometimes  the  author's  hand- 
writing may  mislead  the  printer,  but  when  so  good  a  bibli- 
cal scholar  as  Mr.  Gladstone  wrote  of  Daniel  in  the  fiery 
furnace,  there  was  no  possibility  that  the  single  name  could 
have  stood  in  his  manuscript  for  the  names  of  the  three  men 

[l52] 


THE  PERVERSITIES  OF  TYPE 

whose  trial  is  mentioned  in  the  book  of  Daniel.  Even  here 
the  submission  of  proof  Gxes  the  final  responsibility  on  the 
author.  But,  quite  apart  from  the  responsibility  for  them, 
the  mistakes  embalmed  in  type  are  among  the  most  inter- 
esting of  all  literary  curiosities. 

Misprints  —  to  use  the  handiest  term  —  range  in  impor- 
tance from  the  innocent  and  obvious,  like  a  turned  a,  and 
the  innocent  and  obvious  only  to  the  expert,  like  a  turned 
s,  to  a  turned  n,  which  may  be  mistaken  for  a  u,  or  the 
change  or  omission  of  a  punctuation  mark,  which  may  in- 
volve claims  to  thousands  of  dollars.  Even  the  separation 
of  one  word  into  two  may  reverse  the  meaning  of  the 
sentence,  yet  not  betray  itself  by  any  oddity  of  phrase,  as 
when  the  atheist  who  had  asserted  that  "God  is  nowhere" 
found  himself  in  print  standing  sponsor  for  the  statement 
that  "God  is  now  here."  The  same  trick  of  the  types  was 
played  on  an  American  political  writer  in  his  own  paper 
regarding  his  pet  reform,  which  he  meant  to  assert  was 
"nowhere  in  existence."  The  earliest  printed  books  were 
intended  to  be  undistinguishable  from  manuscripts,  but  oc- 
casionally a  turned  letter  betrayed  them  absolutely.  In  the 
same  way  the  modern  newspaper  now  and  then  introduces 
an  unintentional  advertisement  of  the  linotype  by  present- 
ing to  its  readers  a  line  upside  down.  Another  trick  is  the 
mixing  of  two  paragraphs,  which  sometimes  occurs  even  in 
books.  The  most  famous  instance  of  this  blunder  is  prob- 
ably that  which  happened  in  the  English  "Men  of  the 
Time"  for  i856,  and  which  led  to  a  serious  lawsuit  against 
the  publishers.  The  printer  had  mixed  the  biographies  of 
the  Bishop  of  Oxford  and  Robert  Owen  the  Socialist  in 
such  a  way  that  Bishop  Wilberforce  was  called  ' '  a  sceptic 
as  it  regards  religious  revelation."  The  mistake  occurred 
in  locking  up  the  forms.     Doubtless  both  biographies  had 

[  '53  ] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

been  approved  by  their  subjects,   but  apparently  no  proof 
was  read  after  the  fatal  telescoping  of  the  two  articles. 

The  last  instance  is  an  example  of  the  patient  waiting  as 
much  as  the  ingenuity  of  the  Imp  of  the  Perverse,  but  in 
pure  ingenuity  he  is  without  a  rival  in  mere  human  inven- 
tiveness. It  certainly  was  a  resourceful  Frenchman  who 
translated  "hit  or  miss"  as  "frappe  ou  mademoiselle,  " 
and  it  was  inspired  ignorance  on  the  part  of  a  student 
assistant  in  a  college  library  who  listed  ' '  Sur  1' Administra- 
tion de  M.  Necker,  par  Lui  Meme"  under  "Meme,  Lui," 
as  if  it  were  the  name  of  the  author  of  the  book  instead  of 
being  the  French  for  "himself."  But  the  Imp  of  the  Per- 
verse aims  higher  than  this.  He  did  not  hesitate  in  an 
edition  of  the  Bible  published  in  London  in  i63i  to  leave 
the  not  out  of  the  one  commandment  from  which  its  ab- 
sence would  be  the  most  noticeable.  This  was  much  worse 
than  leaving  out  the  whole  commandment,  for  it  trans- 
formed a  moral  prohibition  into  an  immoral  command. 
The  printer  in  this  case  was  fined  three  hundred  pounds, 
or  five  hundred  dollars  for  each  letter  omitted.  It  is  curious 
that  the  same  omission  was  made  in  an  edition  of  the  Bible 
printed  at  Halle.  A  \ermont  paper,  in  an  obituary  notice 
of  a  man  who  had  originally  come  from  Hull,  Mass.,  was 
made  by  the  types  to  state  that  "the  body  was  taken  to 
Hell,  where  the  rest  of  the  family  are  buried."  In  the  first 
English  Bible  printed  in  Ireland,  "Sin  no  more"  appears 
as  "Sin  on  more."  It  was,  however,  a  deliberate  joke  of 
some  Oxford  students  which  changed  the  wording  in  the 
marriage  service  from  "live"  to  "like,"  so  that  a  couple 
married  out  of  this  book  are  required  to  live  together  only 
so  long  as  they  "both  shall  like."  An  orator  who  spoke  of 
"our  grand  mother  church"  was  made  to  say  "our  grand- 
mother   church."     The    public  of   Brown    University   was 

[.54] 


THE  PERVERSITIES  OF  TYPE 

recently  greatly  amused  by  a  local  misprint.  The  presi- 
dent of  the  university  is  required  by  its  ancient  charter  to 
be  an  "antipaedobaptist"  ;  the  types  reproduced  the  word 
as  "antipseudobaptist,"  a  word  which  would  be  a  very 
good  Greek  rendering  of  "hardshell."  An  express  train  at 
full  speed  having  struck  a  cow,  the  report  was  made  to  say 
that  it  "cut  her  into  calves."  Sixty  years  ago  the  "London 
Globe"  made  the  Registrar  General  say  that  the  city  was 
suffering  from  a  high  rate  of  morality.  The  ingenuity  of  our 
readers  will  supply  the  missing  letter,  as  it  also  will  the 
the  true  reading  of  the  following  passage  which  appeared 
in  an  English  newspaper:  "Sir  Robert  Peel  has  been  out 
with  a  party  of  fiends  shooting  peasants."  It  was  an  easy 
but  astonishing  blunder  made  in  German,  in  the  substitu- 
tion of  "Miidchen"  (girls)  for  "Machten "  (powers),  accord- 
ing to  which  Bismarck  was  asserted  to  be  "  trying  to  keep 
up  honest  and  straightforward  relations  with  all  the  girls." 
The  Imp  of  the  Perverse,  when  he  descends  upon  the 
printing  office,  sometimes  becomes  the  Imp  of  the  Per- 
verted. Here  his  achievements  will  not  bear  reproducing. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  point  of  indecency  he  displays  the 
same  superhuman  ingenuity  as  in  his  more  innocent  pranks. 
His  indecencies  are  all,  indeed,  in  print,  but  fortunately 
scattered,  and  it  would  be  a  groveling  nature  that  should 
seek  to  collect  them ;  yet  the  absence  of  this  chapter  from 
the  world's  book  of  humor  means  the  omission  of  a  comic 
strain  that  neither  Aristophanes  nor  Rabelais  has  surpassed. 
Even  as  I  write,  a  newspaper  misprint  assures  me  that  type- 
setting machines  are  no  protection  against  the  Imp  of  the 
Perverted.  Perhaps  we  may  be  pardoned  the  reproduction 
of  one  of  the  mildest  of  these  naughtinesses.  A  French 
woman  novelist  had  written:  "To  know  truly  what  love 
is,  we  must  go  out  of  ourselves"  (sortir  de  soi).     The  addi- 

[  i5^] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

tion  of  a  single  letter  transformed  this  eminently  respectable 
sentiment  into  the  feline  confession:  "To  know  truly  what 
love  is,  we  must  go  out  nights"  (sortir  de  soir). 

Sometimes  the  Blunder  Sprite  deliberately  pits  himself 
against  author,  proof  reader,  and  all  their  allies.  The  books 
printed  by  Aldus  are  famous  for  their  correctness,  yet  a  few 
errors  crept  into  them,  so  much  to  the  disgust  of  the  great 
printer  that  he  said  he  would  gladly  have  given  a  gold  crown 
for  each  one  to  be  rid  of  them.  The  famous  Oxford  Uni- 
versity Press  is  said  to  have  posted  up  the  first  sheet  of  one 
of  its  Bibles,  with  the  offer  of  a  guinea  for  every  misprint 
that  could  be  found  in  it.  None  was  found — until  the  book 
was  printed.  James  Lenox,  the  American  collector,  prided 
himself  on  the  correctness  of  his  reprint  of  the  autograph 
manuscript  of  "Washington's  Farewell  Address,"  which 
he  had  acquired.  On  showing  the  book  to  Henry  Stevens, 
the  bookseller,  the  latter,  glancing  at  a  page,  inquired, 
"Why  papar  instead  of  paper?"  Mr.  Lenox  was  over- 
whelmed with  mortification ;  but  Stevens  sent  for  a  skill- 
ful bookbinder,  who  removed  the  objectionable  a  and  with 
a  camel's  hair  pencil  substituted  an  e  for  it,  so  that  the 
demon  was  conquered  after  all,  but  only  through  great 
trouble.  How  would  it  seem  possible  to  reissue  a  printed 
book,  copy  it  exactly,  and  yet  make  an  atrocious  blunder? 
The  Type  Spirit  is  equal  to  even  this  feat.  The  book  was 
a  mathematical  one,  full  of  formulae.  It  was  not  repro- 
duced page  for  page,  so  it  was  perfectly  easy  for  a  signa- 
ture mark  to  get  printed  and  appear  in  the  middle  of  a 
page  mixed  up  with  an  equation,  to  the  confusion  of 
American  mathematical  scholarship.  More  tragic  were  the 
misprints  in  a  work  by  the  Italian  poet,  Guidi,  which  are 
said  to  have  hastened  his  death.  In  an  interesting  volume 
by  Henry  B.  Wheatley  on  "  Literary  Blunders,"  the  Tricksy 

[i56] 


THE  PERVERSITIES  OF  TYPE 

Puck  of  the  Press  has  revenged  himself  on  the  author  for 
his  attacks  by  smuggHng  in  a  number  of  misprints,  among 
them  one  that  he  must  have  inspired  in  the  mind  of  the 
author,  the  speUing  "Bride  of  Lammermuir,"  which  has 
no  warrant  in  Scott's  novel  itself.  In  the  same  book  is  a 
reference  to  Shakespeare  that  diligent  search  fails  to  verify. 
Thus  no  knowledge  or  skill  avails  against  the  Kobold  of 
the  Case.  The  most  baffling  device  of  the  imp  is  to  cause 
a  new  error  in  the  process  of  correcting  an  old  one.  This 
residuary  misprint  is  one  against  which  there  is  no  complete 
protection.  When  General  Pillow  returned  from  Mexico 
he  was  hailed  by  a  Southern  editor  as  a  "  battle-scarred 
veteran."  The  next  day  the  veteran  called  upon  him  to 
demand  an  apology  for  the  epithet  actually  printed,  "battle- 
scared.  "  What  was  the  horror  of  the  editor,  on  the  follow- 
ing day,  to  see  the  expression  reappear  in  his  apology  as 
"bottle-scarred"! 

Occasionally,  however,  the  mischief  maker  takes  a  notion 
to  improve  the  copy  set  before  him  The  world  will  never 
know  how  often  this  has  happened,  for  authors  are  just  as 
willing  to  take  credit  for  excellencies  not  their  own  as  to 
lay  on  the  printer  the  blame  for  their  own  oversights.  In 
one  of  Artemus  Ward's  articles  he  had  spoken  of  a  starving 
prisoner  as  appealing  for  something  to  eat.  The  proof 
rendered  it  something  to  read.  The  humorist  accepted  the 
substitution  as  an  additional  absurdity.  The  French  poet, 
Malherbe,  once  welcomed  a  misprint  as  an  improvement  on 
what  he  had  written.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  had  there 
been  no  misprints  in  Shakespeare's  quartos  and  folios,  half 
the  occupation  of  Shakespeare  scholarship  would  have  been 
lacking.  Sometimes  the  original  manuscript  turns  up — 
unfortunately  not  in  Shakespeare's  case — to  confute  some  or 
all  of  the  ingenious  editors.     A  learned  professor  changed 

[157] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

the  word  "unbodied"  in  Shelley's  "Skylark"  to  "em- 
bodied," and  some  critics  approved  the  change;  but  the 
poet's  manuscript  in  the  Harvard  University  Library  makes 
the  former  reading  clear  beyond  question.  One  might  say 
that  in  these  cases  the  Imp  of  the  Perverse  plants  himself 
like  a  fatal  microbe  in  the  brain  of  the  unfortunate  editor. 
When  that  brilliant  work,  "The  Principles  of  Success  in 
Literature,  '  by  George  Henry  Lewes,  appeared  in  the  ' '  Fort- 
nightly Review,"  the  expression  "tilt  stones  from  a  cart" 
(used  to  describe  careless  writing)  was  printed  with  /  as  the 
first  letter.  When  the  chapters  were  reissued  in  America, 
the  proofreader,  warned  by  the  presence  of  numerous  other 
gross  misprints,  naturally  corrected  the  meaningless  "lilt" 
to  the  obvious  and  natural  "tilt."  This  change  at  first 
escaped  the  attention  of  the  American  editor,  who  in  the 
second  edition  insisted  on  restoring  the  original  misprint 
and  even  defended  his  misjudgment  in  a  note.  It  is  worth 
adding  that  the  Oxford  English  Dictionary  takes  the  mis- 
print as  too  obvious  for  comment  and  quotes  the  passage 
under   "tilt." 

The  most  daring  feat  of  the  typographic  Angel  of  the 
Odd — to  adopt  another  of  Poe's  expressions — is  the  crea- 
tion of  what  Professor  Skeat  called  "ghost  words,"  that  is, 
words  that  seem  to  exist  but  do  not.  A  misprint  in  Scott's 
"Monastery"  of  "morse"  for  "nurse"  was  accepted  with- 
out question  by  readers  and  gravely  explained  by  scholars. 
Some  of  these  words,  of  which  there  are  scores,  are  due  to 
the  misreading  of  crabbed  manuscripts,  but  not  a  few  have 
originated  in  the  printing  office.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  they  make  their  way  into  the  dictionaries.  For  another 
instance  let  the  reader  open  Worcester's  Dictionary  to  the 
word  phantomnation.  He  will  see  it  defined  as  "illusion" 
and  referred  to  Pope.     In  Webster's  Dictionary,  however, 

[.58] 


THE  PERVERSITIES  OF  TYPE 

he  will  learn  its  true  character,  as  a  ghost  word  formed  by 
running  together  the  two  words  phantom  nation. 

The  printing  of  poetry  involves  all  the  possible  mistakes 
liable  to  prose  and,  owing  to  the  form  of  poetry,  some  new 
ones.  Thus  in  Pickering's  Aldine  edition  of  Milton,  two 
words  of  one  line  in  "Samson  Agonistes"  are  dropped 
down  into  the  next,  making  the  two  lines  of  uneven  length 
and  very  much  hurting  the  emphasis.  The  three-volume 
reprint  of  this  edition  dutifully  copies  the  misprint.  In 
the  Standard  edition  of  Dr.  Holmes's  "Works  "  printed  at 
the  Riverside  Press,  in  the  unusual  case  of  a  poem  in  stanzas 
being  broken  up  into  a  dialogue,  the  end  of  one  speech, 
carried  over  to  the  following  page,  has  been  assigned  to 
the  next  speaker,  thus  spoiling  both  the  sense  and  the 
metre.  The  most  extraordinary  instance  that  has  ever  come 
under  my  eye  occurs  in  a  special  edition  of  John  Hay's 
"Poems,"  issued  as  a  college  prize  volume  and  very  ele- 
gantly printed  at  a  well-known  press.  One  poem  has  dis- 
appeared entirely  except  a  single  stanza,  which  has  been 
attached  to  another  poem  with  which  it  has  no  connection, 
not  even  agreeing  with  it  in  metre. 

The  list  of  errata,  the  printer's  public  confession  of  fault,  is 
rather  rare  in  modern  books,  but  this  is  due  as  much  to  the 
indifference  of  the  public  as  to  better  proofreading.  When 
Edwin  Arnold's  "Light  of  Asia"  took  the  reading  world 
by  storm,  a  New  York  reprint  was  issued,  which  we  com- 
mend to  anyone  looking  for  classical  examples  of  misprinted 
books.  It  averages  perhaps  a  gross  misprint  to  every  page. 
Possibly  extreme  haste  to  beat  the  Boston  edition  in  the 
market  may  have  suggested  dispensing  with  the  proofreader. 
Of  course  a  publisher  who  could  so  betray  his  customers 
would  never  offer  them  even  the  partial  amends  of  a  list 
of  errata.     Sometimes  the  errors  are  picked  up  while  the 

['59] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

book  is  still  in  press,  and  in  that  case  the  list  of  errata  can 
be  printed  as  an  extension  of  the  text;  sometimes  the  best 
that  can  be  done  is  to  print  it  on  a  separate  slip  or  sheet 
and  either  insert  it  in  the  book  or  supply  it  to  purchasers. 
Both  these  things  happened  in  the  case  of  that  early  Ameri- 
can book,  Mather's  "Magnalia."  The  loose  list  of  errata 
was  printed  on  the  two  inner  pages  of  one  fold  the  size  of 
the  book.  In  the  two  hundred  years  that  have  elapsed, 
most  of  these  folded  sheets  have  been  lost,  with  the  finan- 
cial result  that  a  copy  of  the  book  with  them  will  bring 
twice  as  much  as  one  without  them,  these  two  leaves 
weighing  as  much  in  the  scales  of  commerce  as  the  other 
four  hundred.  Sometimes  a  misprint  establishes  the  prior- 
ity of  a  copy,  the  error  having  been  silently  corrected  while 
the  sheets  were  going  through  the  press,  and  thus  adds  to 
its  value  in  the  eyes  of  the  collector.  The  extent  of  these 
ancient  lists  of  errata  staggers  belief.  Cardinal  Bellarmin 
was  obliged  to  issue  an  octavo  volume  of  eighty-eight  pages 
to  correct  the  misprints  in  his  published  works,  and  there 
is  on  record  a  still  huger  list  of  errata,  extending  to  one 
hundred  and  eleven  quarto  pages. 

But  we  must  not  suppose  that  misprints  began  with  the 
invention  of  printing.  The  name  did,  but  not  the  thing 
named.  In  earlier  times  it  was  the  copyist  who  made  the 
mistakes  and  bore  the  blame.  It  is  easy  to  see  how  in 
Greece  and  Rome,  when  one  reader  read  aloud  a  book 
which  perhaps  a  hundred  copyists  reproduced,  a  great 
number  of  errors  might  creep  into  the  copies,  and  how 
many  of  these  would  result  from  confusion  in  hearing. 
Every  copy  was  then  an  edition  by  itself  and  a  possible 
source  of  error,  calling  therefore  for  its  own  proofreading. 
It  is  accordingly  no  wonder  that  the  straightening  out  of 
classic   texts   is  still   going  on.     Had  Chaucer,  who  wrote 

[.60] 


THE  PERVERSITIES  OF  TYPE 

over  a  hundred  years  before  printing  was  introduced  into 
England,  been  able  to  read  once  for  all  the  proof  of  his 
poems,  he  would  not  have  had  to  write  that  feeling  address 
to  his  copyist,  or  scrivener,  with  which  we  may  fitly  take 
leave  of  our  subject. 

Adam  scryveyne,  if  ever  it  thee  byfalle, 

Boece  or  Troylus  for  to  wryten  nuwe, 

Under  thy  long  lokkes  thowe  most  have  the  scalle. 

But  affler  my  makyng  thowe  wryte  more  truwe; 

So  offl  a  daye  I  mot  thy  werk  renuwe. 

It  to  corect,  and  eke  to  rubbe  and  scrape. 

And  al  is  thorugh  thy  Decglygence  and  rape. 


[i6i] 


A   SECRET  OF   PERSONAL  POWER 

REATER  efficiency  is  the  watchword  of  the 
hour.  The  pages  of  every  technical  and 
even  educational  magazine  bristle  with 
it.  One  is  driven  to  wonder  whether  the 
principle  does  not  require  that  in  every 
printing  office  the  word  "efficiency"  be 
stereotyped  to  save  the  cost  of  setting.  We  are  told  how 
one  manager  of  a  creamery  saved  annually  the  amount  of 
his  own  salary  to  the  company  by  having  the  dents  in  the 
supply  cans  pounded  out  and  so  getting  more  milk  from 
the  farmers.  But  though  the  lengths  to  which  the  insist- 
ence on  efficiency  is  carried  may  sometimes  provoke  a 
smile,  we  have  no  inclination  to  disparage  it;  we  realize 
that  efficiency  has  far  more  than  a  mere  money  value  to 
society;  it  is  rather  our  purpose  in  the  present  paper  to 
ask  whether  the  efficiency  man  has  ever  thought  to  turn 
his  searchlight  in  upon  himself  and  discover  whether  he 
has  not  latent  and  unexpected  powers  that  may  be  evoked 
to  the  great  increase  of  his  own  efficiency. 

We  have  nothing  historically  new  to  offer,  though  the 
principle  we  are  to  mention  is  practically  unknown  or  at 
least  unutilized.  It  is  the  great,  controlling  principle  of 
Forethought,  the  application  of  which  is  far  wider  than 
thought  itself,  extending  to  all  the  functions  of  the  soul 
and  even  affecting  bodily  energy  and  health.  The  action 
of  Forethought  is  based  on  the  fact  that  there  is  more  to 
ourselves   than  we  are  aware  of.     We  are   not   ordinarily 

[.63] 


A  SECRET  OF  PERSONAL  POWER 

conscious  of  our  past  lives,  for  instance,  jet  a  supreme 
crisis,  such  as  falling  from  a  height,  may  make  a  man's 
whole  past  in  an  instant  flash  before  him  in  review.  Under 
sudden  stress  a  man  maj  develop  powers  of  leadership  or 
resolution  that  nobody  could  have  foreseen  and  that  he 
himself  cannot  account  for.  Our  selves  as  we  know  them 
are,  so  to  speak,  only  the  top  soil  of  our  entire  natures. 
Every  conscious  personality  is  like  a  farm  in  an  oil  district. 
It  is  underlain  by  an  unrealized  wealth  that  may  never  be 
brought  to  light.  Some  accident  may  reveal  the  treasure, 
but  if  the  owner  suspects  its  existence  he  may  bore  for  it. 
To  show  how  this  boring  may  be  done  is  one  of  the  pur- 
poses of  the  present  paper.  But  let  us  first  assure  ourselves 
further  of  the  existence  of  this  hidden  fund  of  energy. 

If  in  the  early  fifties  of  the  last  century  a  vote  had  been 
taken  on  the  two  men  in  America  who  ten  years  later  would 
stand  head  and  shoulders  above  their  countrymen  in  posi- 
tion and  recognized  ability,  it  is  probable  that  not  one 
single  vote  would  have  been  cast  for  a  slouchy  Missouri 
farmer  or  a  shabby  Illinois  lawyer,  certainly  not  for  the 
former.  Grant  and  Lincoln  themselves  would  not  have 
expected  a  vote.  Yet  their  powers  existed  then,  unrealized 
by  their  owners,  and  only  needing  the  proper  stimulus  to 
bring  them  out.  That  stimulus  was  responsibility;  and, 
great  as  their  achievements  were  under  this  stimulus,  neither 
man  appears  to  have  reached  his  limit;  each  apparently 
had  still  a  fund  of  reserve  power  to  be  expended  on  yet 
greater  occasions  had  they  arisen.  This  is  not  to  say  that 
all  men  have  an  equal  fund  of  unrecognized  ability.  The 
experiences  of  the  great  struggle  out  of  which  Lincoln  and 
Grant  came  supreme  are  alone  suflicient  to  show  how  un- 
equal are  men's  endowments.  A  McClellan  proves  himself 
an  unsurpassed  organizer,  but  no  fighter;  a  Burnside  dis- 

[.63] 


THE  BOOKLOVER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

plays  marked  ability  in  leading  fifteen  or  twenty  thousand 
men,  but  beyond  this  number  he  fails  disastrously.  Neither 
Foresight  nor  any  other  device  can  create  ability.  A  gallon 
can  will  hold  only  a  gallon,  no  matter  how  carefully  its 
sides  are  rounded.  But  in  the  case  of  any  given  man  no 
one  knows  his  capacity  until  he  has  had  a  chance  to  show 
it.  His  nature  may  hold  only  a  pint,  or,  as  with  the  men 
who  have  mastered  great  occasions  with  still  unexhausted 
powers,  it  may  seem  like  the  horn  which  the  god  Thor 
tried  to  drain  but  could  not,  for  its  base  was  connected 
with  the  ocean  itself.  Not  every  man  can  hope  to  be  called 
to  a  responsibility  that  shall  bring  out  his  latent  powers; 
most  of  us,  if  we  are  ever  to  get  the  call,  will  first  have  to 
show  the  ability. 

How  can  a  man  tap  the  unknown  resources,  be  they 
great  or  small,  of  his  unconscious  self?  The  method  here 
to  be  suggested  has  at  least  the  merit  of  great  simplicity. 
I  have  called  it  Forethought;  it  might  perhaps  as  exactly 
be  called  Forewilling.  The  point  is  that  this  unconscious 
part  of  a  man's  nature  is  not  out  of  his  control;  he  can 
send  word  to  it  and  direct  it,  even  if  he  has  to  do  so  by 
a  kind  of  wireless  telegraphy.  However  mysterious  this 
may  sound,  there  is  nothing  mystical  about  it,  neither  is  it 
something  vague  and  indefinite,  but  a  practice  to  be  applied 
to  actual  cases  in  hand.  Suppose  a  business  man  is  trying 
to  get  an  important  contract,  and  is  to  have  an  interview 
on  the  morrow  that  will  decide  the  question.  Let  him, 
before  he  falls  asleep  at  night,  go  over  the  whole  ground 
in  his  mind,  set  before  himself  clearly  the  thing  to  be 
done  with  the  particular  dilficulties  to  be  met,  and  let 
him  will  himself  to  meet  those  difficulties,  to  carry  his 
case.  Let  him  will  that  at  that  time  he  shall  be  cheerful 
and  vigorous ;   and,  having  given  these  instructions  to  his 

[•64] 


A  SECRET  OF  PERSONAL  POWER 

unconscious  self — which  has  perhaps  been  waiting  years 
for  just  this  chance  to  do  its  part  in  the  common  endeavor 
—  let  him  dismiss  the  whole  matter  from  his  conscious 
thought  and  go  to  sleep.  On  awaking  in  the  morning  let 
him  review  the  matter  and  again  dismiss  it  from  his  mind 
until  the  occasion  arrives.  If  he  will  do  this  faithfully,  he 
may  not  succeed  the  first  time  in  carrying  his  point,  but 
he  will  certainly  feel  a  great  increase  of  power,  and  ulti- 
mately, if  he  persists  in  making  his  unconscious  self  an 
active  partner  in  his  life,  he  will  find  himself  far  more 
successful  than  he  could  have  been  while  depending  on 
a  single  side  of  his  nature.  The  same  principle  will  hold, 
of  course,  in  a  myriad  cases;  if  we  have  to-morrow,  or 
even  at  a  later  date,  to  plead  a  cause,  to  make  an  after- 
dinner  speech,  to  write  a  report  or  an  article,  to  learn  a 
lesson,  to  entertain  guests,  to  handle  a  difficult  case  of  dis- 
cipline, we  have  only  to  take  this  counsel  of  our  pillow,  to 
reenforce  it  with  our  first  morning  thought,  and  we  shall 
find  ourselves  making  a  new  record  of  success. 

It  is  obvious  that  a  principle  so  effective  cannot  be  limited 
to  the  active  or  the  intellectual  life.  If  a  man  has  a  fault 
or  a  besetting  weakness  or  sin,  here  is  a  way  out  of  it. 
How  long  will  a  bad  habit  stand  such  an  assault  upon 
itself  as  the  evening  and  morning  practice  of  Forethought? 
One  will  actually  feel  the  new  force  within  him,  like  a  gyro- 
scopic stabilizer,  holding  him  to  his  predetermined  course. 
There  is  literally  a  world  of  hope  for  mankind  in  the  ap- 
plication of  this  principle  on  its  moral  side.  But  the  busi- 
ness of  our  article  is  with  other  applications  and  we  must 
dismiss  this,  the  greatest  of  all,  v/ith  a  mere  mention. 

If  anyone  questions  whether  this  principle  is  true  or  not, 
the  best  answer  will  be  to  bid  him  test  it.  Though  it  be 
true  universally,  some  people  may  not  easily  apply  it,  and 

[i65] 


THE  BOOKLOYER  AND  HIS  BOOKS 

some  may  not  have  the  patience  to  subject  themselves  to 
such  a  discipline.  But  most  w^ill  have  no  difficulty,  and 
many  vv^ill  succeed  well  enough  to  inspire  themselves  to 
continue.  Some,  indeed,  will  say,  and  with  perfect  truth, 
that  there  is  nothing  new  in  this  doctrine,  that  they  have 
long  known  and  applied  it.  The  principle  has  doubtless 
been  known  for  thousands  of  years,  but  it  has  certainly 
not  been  widely  taken  up  by  our  race,  which  is  curiously 
external  in  its  notions  of  self-education  and  self-control. 
One  American  writer,  the  late  Charles  Godfrey  Leland,  a 
man  of  the  most  varied  powers  and  accomplishments,  has 
written  in  advocacy  of  it  and  gives  us  as  his  own  experience 
that  after  the  age  of  seventy  he  was  able  to  do  a  greater 
amount  of  literary  work,  and  with  less  fatigue,  than  ever 
before  simply  by  calling  in  the  aid  of  his  unconscious  self. 
If  one  were  to  read  the  lives  and  writings  of  eminent  men 
with  this  principle  of  Forethought  in  mind,  one  would  find 
numberless  instances  of  its  more  or  less  unconscious  prac- 
tice. The  best  scholar  in  my  own  class,  for  instance,  ap- 
plied it  to  his  studies.  Does  anyone  suppose  that  the  old 
Puritan's  sweetening  of  his  mind  with  a  little  Calvin  before 
he  went  to  bed  was  without  its  effect  on  his  devotion  to 
Calvinism?  Erasmus,  the  wittiest  of  scholars,  writing 
nearly  four  hundred  years  ago  to  his  special  friend.  Chris- 
tian of  Lubeck,  recommends  the  practice  both  of  the  even- 
ing instruction  and  the  morning  review  as  something  that 
he  himself  has  followed  from  his  childhood;  and  we  can- 
not doubt  that  in  it  he  reveals  one  of  the  secrets  of  his 
world-wide  influence.  He  says  to  his  youthful  friend:  "A 
little  before  you  go  to  sleep  read  something  choice  and 
worth  remembering,  and  think  it  over  until  you  fall 
asleep.  When  you  awake  in  the  morning  make  yourself 
give  an  account  of  it."     Though  this  is  clearly  an  applica- 

[i66] 


A  SECRET  OF  PERSONAL  POWER 

ion  of  the  principle  to  study  and  the  strengthening  of  the 
Tiemory,  experiment  will  show  that  the  potency  of  Fore- 
hought  is  not  limited  to  the  memory  or  the  intellect  in 
general,  but  applies  to  man's  entire  nature  and  equally  to 
he  least  and  the  greatest  of  its  concerns. 


[167] 


INDEX 


INDEX 

Ability,  cannot  be  created,  i64. 

Accents,  their  help  in  reading  poetry,  17,  18. 

Aeschylus,  as  characterized  by  Mrs.  Browning,  67. 

Aldine  edition  of  the  British  Poets,  by  Pickering,  28,  a4. 

Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey,  his  "Friar  Jerome's  Beautiful  Book,"  87,  88. 

Aldus,  Alduses  and  Elzevirs  contrasted,  aS;  beauty  in  his  work,  Ix;  bindings  of,  100; 
his  characteristic  book,  ai;  his  example  followed  by  the  Elzevirs,  aa;  his  italic  type 
and  its  effect  on  the  size  and  price  of  books,  ao,  a  i ;  Pickering  and  other  followers 
of,  a3,  a4;  vexed  by  misprints,  i56. 

Alphabet,  Chinese,  picture  writing,  80,  81;  derivation  from  picture  writing,  81;  sci- 
entific and  actual,  147;  varieties  in  use,  i46.    See  a/so  Type. 

American  Journal  of  Psychology,  contains  Sanford's  study  on  "  The  relative  legibility 
of  the  small  letters,"  laa. 

Arnold,  Edwin,  misprints  in  his  "Light  of  Asia,"  iBg. 

Art,  art  aspect  of  the  book,  3,  49.  ii5;  shares  the  prehistoric  background  of  the  book, 
79.  80. 

Artists  not  opposed  to  criticism,  63. 

Assyrian  clay  tablet,  4- 

Astor  Library,  size  in  1875,  io4. 

Audubon,  John  James,  his  elephant-folio  "  Birds  of  America,"  55. 

Authors,  reading  by  single  authors  and  groups,  74-76;  spoilers  of  books,  4o. 

Authorship,  rules  of,  44- 

Babylonian  book,  83. 

Back  numbers,  unimportant  contemporary  works  become,  77. 
"  Background  of  the  book,"  79-86. 
Bacon,  Francis,  Lord,  quoted,  106,  iia. 

Baird,  John  Wallace,  directs  Clark  University  studies  on  legibility,  ia4. 
Ballads,  Old  English,  Hazlitt  on,  i43. 
Balzac,  Honore  de,  expanded  his  novels  In  proof,  i5. 

Balzac,  Jean  Louis  Guez  de,  acknowledged  his  indebtedness  to  the  Elzevirs,  33. 
Bamboo,  source  of  Chinese  paper,  85. 

Barlow,  Joel,  place  of  his  "  Columbiad  "  in  modern  printing,  10. 
Bartlett,  John,  quoted,  ia8. 
BaskervIUe,  John,  his  smooth  paper,  5. 
Beauty,  see  Esthetics. 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  his  "Norwood"  in  three  volumes,  la;  John  Beattie  Crozier  oq 
bis  sermons,  iii. 

[  '71  ] 


INDEX 

Beethoven,  his  Ninth  Symphony  as  a  product  of  genius,  65. 

Bellarmin,  Cardinal,  list  of  errata  in  his  works,  i6o. 

Best  books,  need  of  provision  for  daily  reading,  107.     See  also  Books. 

Bible,  Hazlitt  on  its  poetry,  i4i;  influence  on  Bunyan,  on  Calhoun,  no;  misprints 
in,  1 54,  1 56;   various  folio  editions,  19. 

Bible  of  humanity,  Socrates  in,  68. 

Bigness,  in  books,  35,  36,  45,  47- 

Binder,  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  43;  what  the  librarian  asks  of  him,  48. 

Binding,  as  an  element  of  the  book,  6;  "The  clothing  of  a  book,"  97-101;  of  the 
book  beautiful,  53-55;  of  the  Chinese  book,  88,  89;  of  the  well-made  book,  5a; 
"  Parchment  bindings,"  I03,  io3;  unnecessary  rebindings,  46. 

Bion,  as  characterized  by  Mrs.  Browning,  68. 

Birch  bark,  used  for  book  of  India,  85. 

Bismarck,  misprint  concerning,  i55. 

Blackmore,  Richard  Doddridge,  tribute  to  Shakespeare,  IIO. 

Blue  and  Gold  editions,  a  favorite  book  size,  34-26. 

Bodoni,  Giambattista,  his  type  commended,  58,  lag,  l3o. 

Book,  "The  background  of  the  book,"  79-86;  "blown"  books,  35;  "The  book  beau- 
tiful," 49-63;  "The  book  of  to-day  and  the  book  of  to-morrow,"  33-37;  Chinese, 
84,  85,  87-91;  "The  clothing  of  a  book,"  97-101;  a  constructive  critic  of  the, 
38-43;  element3of,  4-6;  "Fitness  in  book  design,"  g-iS;  its  structural  contradic- 
tion, 53;  materials,  93;  of  the  future,  95,  96;  on  its  physical  side  an  art  object, 
3;  pre-Columbian  Mexican,  6;  printed,  a  "substitute"  for  manuscript,  4;  subject 
to  laws  of  esthetics  and  economics,  1 15;  tests  of  its  utility,  1 15;  well-made,  not  ex- 
tremely costly,  7,  not  identical  with  beautiful,  52;  worth  writing  three  times,  44. 
See  also  Design;  Size. 

Book  buyers,  how  to  educate,  87;  spoilers  of  books,  4o,  43. 

Booklovers,  "Books  and  booklovers,"  3-8;  must  first  know  books,  7;  service  in  im- 
provement of  books,  48,  61,  63. 

Book  production,  io5;  elements  added  by  printing,  i4. 

Books,  as  a  librarian  would  like  them,  44-48;  "Books  and  booklovers,"  3-8;  the 
greatest,  few,  66;  intellectual  riOraff,  9;  learning  to  love,  7;  "  Lest  we  forget  the 
few  great  books,"  io4-ii4;  perishable,  34,  45,  46;  progress  in  legibility  of,  i32, 
i33;  small,  commended  by  Dr.  Johnson,  20;  "The  student  and  the  library,"  139- 
i44;   that  are  not  books,    io5,  106;  world's  annual  publication  of,  io5. 

Books  of  Hours,  dainty  volumes,  30. 

Boston  .\thenaeum  Library,  size  in  1875,  io4. 

Boston  Public  Library,  Address  in,  3,  footnote;  size  in  1875,  io4. 

Brandos,  Georg,  his  "  Shakespeare:   a  critical  study,"  73. 

Brass,  used  for  book  of  India,  85. 

British  Poets,  rival  editions  of,  by  Pickering  and  by  Little  and  Brown,  a3,  24. 

Brown,  Horatio  Robert  Forbes,  on  Aldus  and  his  italic  type,  30. 

Brown,  John  Carter,  patron  of  Henry  Stevens,  38. 

Brown  University,  misprint  in  quoting  its  charter,  i54,  i55. 

Browne,  Charles  Farrar,  adopts  a  misprint,  157. 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett,  her  "Wine  of  Cyprus"  quoted,  67,  68. 

[     17^     ] 


INDEX 

Buchanan,  George,  his  Latin  poems,  commended  bjr  Dr.  Johnson,  a3;  published  by  the 

Elzevirs,  a3. 
Bulk,  in  books,  93-96. 
Bunyan,  John,  debt  to  the  Bible,  no. 
Burma,  book  of,  see  India. 
Burns,  Bobert,  Ilazlitt  on,  i^a. 

Burnside,  General  Ambrose  Everett,  his  limitations,  i63,  i6/i. 
Burton,  Sir  Bichard,  his  "  Kasidah  "  in  Mosher's  tribute  typography,  137. 
Bury,  Bichard  do,  author  of  the  "  Philobiblon,"  8. 
Byron,  Lord,  hated  Horace,  68. 


LiAESURA,  indication  of,  in  print,  18. 

Calhoun,  John  Caldwell,  reader  of  the  Bible,  no. 

Calligraphy,  see  Manuscript. 

Calvin,  John,  as  a  Puritan's  spiritual  nightcap,  166. 

Cambridge  University,  student  groups  in,  189. 

Capital  letters,  legibility,  I3i,  laa,  ia6;  Roman  in  origin,  118;  Roman,  superior  to 

black-letter  in  combination,  67;  undersized,  used  by  Aldus,  21. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  on  Goethe,  no;  rewrote  his  books  in  proof,  i5. 
Caslon  type,  commended,  58,  117. 
Catchwords,  usage  of  Aldus,  ai. 

Cattell,  James  McKeen,  his  investigations  of  legibility,  lai,  laa. 
Cave  men,  pictures  made  by  them,  79,  80. 
Centaur  type,  commended,  iSa. 

Century  Dictionary,  illustration  of  cerastes,  81;  a  triumph  of  typography,  16,  i35. 
Century  types,  commended,  127,  182. 
Cervantes,  "Don  Quixote,"  character  and  meaning  of,  70,  71,  no  final  edition  of,  11, 

on  reading,  i43,  i44,  translations  of,  i43,  i/14;  his  character,  70;  later  novelists 

indebted  to,  i43. 
Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  complaint  of  his  scribe's  errors,   160,   161;  Hazlitt  on,   i4a;  his 

spelling,  149. 
Cheapness,  see  Cost. 
Cheltenham  type,  commended,  i32. 
Cherokee  syllabary,  i46. 

Children,  increase  of  near  sight  among,  130;  legibility  of  books  for,  5,  117. 
Chinese,  alphabet,  conventionalized  picture  writing,  80,  81;  book,  84,  85,  87-91. 
Chlswick  Press,  38,  footnote;  Pickering's  books  printed  at,  4i. 
Christian  of  Lubeck,  letter  of  Erasmus  to,  quoted,  166. 
Cicero,  did  not  write  for  children,  68. 
Clark  University,  studies  on  legibility,  134-127,  i3a. 
Classroom,  not  equal  to  a  good  book,  i4o. 

Clay  tablet,  and  booklovers,  4;  described,  83.  ' 

Clodd,  Edward,  on  discovery  of  British  prehistoric  antiquities,  79. 
Cloister  Oldstyle  type,  commended,  iSa;  a  safe  norm  for  poetry,  58. 
Cloth,  used  in  binding,  53. 

[  '73] 


INDEX 

"Clothing  of  a  book,"  97-101. 

Codex,  Roman,  form  adopted  for  parchment  books,  84;  original  of  modem  book  form, 

19,  53,  90. 
Collins,  Wilkie,  tribute  to  "Robinson  Crusoe,"  no. 
Color,  use  of,  60. 

Columbian  type,  first  used  in  Barlow's  "Columbiad,"  10. 
Columns,  in  wide  pages,  47- 
Community,  value  of  reading  to  the,  38,  39. 
Compactness  and  legibility,  117,  i3o,  i3i,  i34,  l35. 
Compositor,  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  4i- 
"Constructive  critic  of  the  book,"  38-43. 
Consumers,  see  Book  buyers. 

Contemporary  writers,  on  reading  their  works,  76,  77. 
Contrast  of  type,  16,  17. 

Copperplate  printing,  in  connection  with  typography,  60. 
Cornell  University  Library,  proof-sheets  of  the  "  Waverley  Novels"  in,  i5. 
Corrigenda,  iSs-iGi;  lists  of,  iSg,  160. 
Cost,  the  book  of  to-morrow  will  be  cheaper,  36;  cheapened  books,  45;  of  beautiful 

books  little  more  than  of  unsightly,  39;  relatively  small,  of  well-made  books,  7. 
Cowper,  William,  Hazlitt  on,  i43. 
Crabbe,  George,  a  favorite  edition  of,  34. 

Criticism,  "A  constructive  critic  of  the  book,"  38-43;  not  opposed  by  artists,  6a. 
Crozier,  John  Beattie,  on  reading,  in,  ii3. 
Culture  cannot  be  vicarious,  i4o. 


Dana,  JOHN  cotton,  his  analysis  of  the  elements  of  the  book,  4. 

Dante,  his  "Divine  Comedy,"  character  of,  69,  70,  i44;   " fly 's-eye"  edition  of,  55; 

Hazlitt  on,  i4i;  privilege  of  reading,  64;  Professor  Torrey  on  reading,  109. 
Decoration,  in  bindings,  6,  99-101;  use  of  color  in,  60. 
Defoe,  Daniel,  tribute  of  Wilkie  Collins  to  "Robinson  Crusoe,"  no. 
Democratization  of  learning,  by  the  cheap  books  of  Aldus,  3i. 
De  Morgan,  William,  quoted,  63,  73;  value  of  his  novels,  77. 
Dc  Quincey,  Thomas,  on  possible  amount  of  reading  in  a  lifetime,  io5. 
Design,  "Fitness  in  book  design,"  9-i3;  of  type,  5,  117,  118. 
Diagonal  of  page,  57. 
Dickens,  Charles,  his  works  in  illegible  print,  i3o,  on  Oxford  India  paper,  94,  on  thick 

paper,  ijb;  on  reading  him,  i43. 
Dickinson,  Emily,  quoted,  3o,  3l. 
Didot,  Ambrose  Firmin,  his  "microscopic"  type,  i3l. 
Discovery  of  a  great  book,  108,  109. 
Distinctions,  to  the  eye,  in  manuscript  and  print,  16-18. 
Don  Quixote,  sec  Cervantes. 

Donlogne,  France,  its  prehistoric  pictures,  79,  80. 
Dowden,  Edward,  his  "Shakspere:   his  mind  and  art,"  73. 
Dryden,  John,  Hazlitt  on,  i43. 

[  >7A  ] 


INDEX 

IjGONOMICS,  the  book  within  the  domain  of,  ii5,  ii6. 

Edges,  treatment  of,  6i. 

Edison,  Thomas  Alva,  would  substitute  nickel  for  paper,  ga,  footnote. 

Editions  de  luxe,  disapproved  by  Henry  Stevens,  89. 

Education,  in  appreciation  of  beautiful  books,  5o;  of  book  buyers,  87. 

Efiicicncy,  in  modern  life,  i6a;  of  the  book,  ii5. 

Egyptian,  book,  see  Papyrus;  hieroglyphics,  picture  writing,  81. 

Elements  of  the  book,  4-6. 

Elimination,  test  of,  applied  to  reading,  63,  64- 

Eliot,  Charles  William,  his  Latin  signature,  I03,  io3. 

Elzevirs,  compared  with  Aldines,  aS,  with  Blue  and  Gold  editions,  a5;  described,  21- 

23. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  his  life  and  works,  78,  76;  importance  of  his  works,  112; 
John  Bealtie  Crozier  on,  iia;  quoted,  i44- 

Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  in  its  two  sizes  of  type,  i35. 

English,  alphabets,  117,  118;  book  publication  in  1918,  io5;  books,  criticised,  88- 
43;  literature  as  affected  by  reformed  spelling,  149;  poets,  Ilazlitts  Lectures  on, 
i4i,  i43;  romancers,  of  the  i8th  century,  i43;   spelling,  i45-i5i. 

Engravings,  see  Illustrations. 

Erasmus,  Desiderius,  letter  to  Christian  of  Lubeck,  quoted,  166. 

Errata,  i52-i6i;  lists  of,  169,  160. 

Errors  of  the  press,  iSa— 161. 

Essays,  in  a  favorite  book  size,  34. 

Esthetics,  beauty  in  typography,  i36-i38;  "The  book  beautiful,"  49-62;  the  book 
subject  to  the  laws  of,  ii5;  harmony  between  beauty  and  use  in  type  design,  182; 
in  choice  of  type,  127.  i3i;  involves  sacrifice  of  utility,  116;  its  demands  must  be 
met  in  a  favorite  book,  24,  met  by  the  Little  Classic  editions,  26;  of  the  book,  3, 
9;  printer's  duty  to,  18;  relation  of  thickness  and  thinness  to,  28,  24;  sacrificed  to 
legibility,  117. 

Etymology  in  spelling,  i48. 

Eumcnes  H,  originates  parchment,  83,  84. 

Euripides,  as  characterized  by  Mrs.  Browning,  68. 

Everyman's  Library,  In  a  favorite  book  size,  24- 

Eves,  binders,  their  work,  lOO. 

"Exceptions  to  the  rule  of  legibility,"  i84-i38,  i3o,  181. 

Expression  In  typography,  9-18,  187,  188. 

Eyes,  see  Sight. 

r  ,  the  letter,  origin  and  derivatives,  81. 
Fairy  Queen,  see  Spenser,  Edmund. 
"Favorite  book  sizes,"  19-27. 

Favorite  literature,  in  appropriate  typography,  187. 

Fielding,  Henry,  a  favorite  edition  of,  24;  on  reading  him,  i43;   an  unattractive  edi- 
tion of,  12. 
Fields,  Annie  Adams,  her  "Beacon  Biography"  of  Hawthorne,  75. 

[  "75  ] 


INDEX 

Finishing,  see  Binding. 

Fitness,  between  illustrations  and  type,  6;  in  book  design,  9— 13;  in  typography,  187, 

i38. 
Fitzgerald,  Edward,  at  Cambridge  University,  189. 
Forethought,  "  A  secret  of  personal  power,"  162-167. 
Forewilling,  "A  secret  of  personal  power,"  162-167. 
Format,  see  Size. 
Forwarding,  see  Binding. 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  quoted,  35,  128. 

French,  alphabet,  i47;  book  publication  in  1918,  io5;  type,  faults  of,  117,  120,  128. 
Frowde,  Henry,  publishes  "The  Periodical"  in  form  of  a  Chinese  book,  88,  90. 

LrALILEO,  acknowledged  his  indebtedness  to  the  Elzevirs,  22. 

Garfield,  James  Abram,  recommends  reading  of  fiction,  107. 

Gems,  in  bindings,  6. 

Genius,  its  bad  spelling,  i5o,  i5i;  its  monuments  in  the  various  arts,  65. 

German,  book  publication  in  igiS,  io5;  spelling  reform,  i47,  i48,  i5o;  tribute  typog- 
raphy, 187;  type,  faults  of,  117,  122,  128. 

Ghost  words,  i58,  159. 

Gilding,  see  Binding;  Edges. 

Gladstone,  William  Ewart,  a  literary  blunder  of,  i52,  i53. 

Goethe,  Carlyle  on,  110;  his  greatness,  78;  John  Beattie  Crozier  on,  112;  on  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  110. 

Goffered  edges,  61. 

Goudy,  Frederic  W.,  his  Kennerley  type  commended,  182. 

Grace  before  reading,  77. 

Grammar  of  book  manufacture,  4o,  43- 

Grant,  Ulysses  Simpson,  his  coat  of  arms,  3o;  his  greatness  brought  out  by  responsi- 
bility, 168. 

Gray,  Thomas,  small  bulk  of  his  work,  69. 

"Great  books.  Lest  we  forget  the  few,"  io4-ii4. 

Greek  literature,  masterpieces  of,  66-68. 

Greeks,  surpassed  by  moderns  in  knowledge,  3o. 

Green,  John  Richard,  quoted,  5o. 

Grolier,  Jean,  bindings  made  for,  100. 

Groups,  reading  authors  by,  74,  75. 

Guide,  in  reading,  i4o-i43;  none  to  love  of  books,  7. 

Guidi,  Carlo  Alessandro,  killed  by  misprints,  i56. 


Habit,  and  forethought,  i65. 

Haggard,  Rider,  his  "Mr.  Meeson's  Will,"  86. 

Hallam,  Arthur  Henry,  at  Cambridge  University,  139. 

Handwriting,  see  Manuscript. 

Harte,  Francis  Bret,  on  reading  his  works,  i43. 

[176  ] 


INDEX 

Harvard  University,  course  in  printing,  43;  Library  possesses  manuscript  of  Shelley's 

"Skylark,"  i58;  size  of  Library  in  1875,  lo^. 
Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  on  reading  liim,  7^,  75. 

Hay,  John,  his  reading  in  college,  189;   a  remarkable  misprint  in  his  "Poems,"  iSg. 
Hazlitt,  William,  as  a  guide  in  reading,  i4i,  i^a;  Lamb  and  Stevenson  on,  i4i. 
Headlines,  Henry  D.  Lloyd  on,  iSa. 
"  Hibbert  Journal,"  bulkiness  of,  gS. 
Hieroglyphics,  see  Picture  writing. 

Higginson,  Thomas  Wentworth,  his  life  of  Longfellow,  76. 
Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  the  Blue  and  Gold  edition  of  his  "  Poems,"  a4,  35;  his  life  of 

Emerson,  76;   member  of  New  England  group  of  authors,  76;  a  misprint  in  his 

"Works,"  iSg;  quoted,  a4,  80,  I03,  106. 
Holt,  Henry,  on  simplified  spelling,  i47,  footnote. 
Homer,  did  not  write  for  children,  68;   Hazlitt  on,  i4i;  his  works,  64,  66,67;  Keats's 

sonnet  on,  108,  109;  not  out  of  date,  77;  why  his  works  are  divided  into  books,  83. 
Horace,  hated  by  Byron,  68;  his  works,  69;  in  Bodoni's  1791  edition,  139,  i3o;  more 

modern  than  the  Puritans,  69,  than  Dante,  70. 
Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company,  publish  books  resembling  Chinese,  87,  88. 
Hours,  books  of,  dainty  volumes,  20. 
House  of  Representatives  Library,  size  in  1876,  io4- 
Hudson,  Henry  Norman,  his  edition  of  Shakespeare,  71,  7a. 

Huey,  Edmund  Burke,  his  "Psychology  and  pedagogy  of  reading,"  commended,  ia4. 
Hull,  Mass.,  as  misprinted,  i54. 
Humanistic  type,  see  New  Humanistic. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  his  characterization  of  the  "  Divine  Comedy,"  70. 


1,  the  letter,  discussions  regarding  its  dot,  61. 

"Idler,"  a  favorite  edition  of,  a4. 

Illumination,  5i;  indication  of  initials  for,  31. 

Illustration,  as  a  feature  of  the  book,  6;  of  the  book  beautiful,  60. 

"Imitatio  Christi,"  in  Updike's  specimen  pages,  i36. 

Incunabula,  relatively  cheap,  49- 

Indecency  in  misprints,  i55,  i56. 

Indenting,  as  affecting  the  book  beautiful,  69. 

"Independent,"  compactly  printed,  96. 

India,  book  of,  85,  86. 

Individual,  value  of  reading  to,  29-83. 

Initials,  colored,  60;   spacing  and  mitering  of,  69. 

Ink,  best  for  the  eye,  116,  I30;  blue,  for  legibility,  5;  aa  element  of  the  book,  5; 
maker,  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  42. 

Interpretative  typography,  9-i3,  i37,  i38. 

"Interpreter  of  meaning,  Print  as  an,"  i4-i8. 

Invention,  in  book  production,  33,  34- 

Irving,  Washington,  book  design  in  editions  of  his  "Knickerbocker,"  lO,  ii;  unfor- 
tunate use  of  his  "  Sketch  Book"  as  a  school  book,  68,  69. 

[     177    ] 


INDEX 

Italic  type,  invention  and  use  by  Aldus,  ao,  ai. 
Italy,  annual  book,  publication,  io5. 

Japan,  annual  book  publication,  io5. 

Javal,  Dr.  Emile,  his  investigations  of  legibility,  lao,  lai,  ia3. 

Jeoson,  Nicholas,  beauty  and  grandeur  in  his  work,  4;  descendants  of  his  types,  i3a; 

facsimile  page  of,  frontispiece. 
Johnson,  Rossiter,  his  Little  Classic  editions  described,  aS,  26. 
Johnson,  Dr.   Samuel,  commends  small  books,   ao,   aa,   a3;  a  favorite  edition  of  his 

"Idler,"  a4;    his  "Prayers"  in  tribute  typography,   i36;    on  our  knowledge  of 

ancient  Britain,  79. 
Josephus,  Flavins,  book  form  inappropriate  to,  5o. 
Justification,  requirements  of,  58,  69. 
Justinian,  facsimile  page  of  his  "  Digestum  novum,"  frontispiece, 

K.EATS,  JOHN,  folio  inappropriate  to,  5o;  inappropriate  Forman  edition  of,  11;  "On 
first  looking  into  Chapman's  Homer,"  108,  109;  small  bulk  of  his  work,  69. 

Kelmscott  Press,  see  Morris,  William. 

Kennerley  type,  commended,  i3a. 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  on  reading  him,  i43. 

"Knickerbocker,"  Irving's,  book  design  in  editions  of,  10,  il. 

Knowledge,  necessary  to  success  in  life,  3o;  obtainable  in  its  fulness  only  through 
books,  3o;  progress  possible  only  in,  ag,  3o. 

Kuran,  sources  from  which  it  was  compiled,  86. 

Lamb,  CHARLES,  on  grace  before  reading,  77;  on  Hazlitt,  i^i. 

Large-paper  copies,  condemned,  56,  i3i. 

Latin  literature,  masterpieces  of,  68,  69. 

Leadership  developed  under  stress,  i63. 

Leading,  as  affecting  legibility,  lao;   as  affecting  spacing,  58,  69. 

Leather,  employment  in  binding,  5a-54. 

Le  Gascon,  binder,  his  work,  100. 

Legend,  of  pictures,  proper  place  of,  60. 

Legibility,  elements  of  the  book  as  related  to,  1 16-1 18;  "Exceptions  to  the  rule  of 
legibility,"  i34-i38,  i3o,  i3i;  influence  on,  of  paper,  type,  and  ink,  5;  "Types 
and  eyes:  The  problem,"  iao-127,  —  "Progress,"  i38-i33. 

Leland,  Charles  Godfrey,  on  forethought,  166. 

Length  of  line,  1 17. 

Lenox,  James,  mortified  by  a  misprint,  i56;  patron  of  Henry  Stevens,  38;  "  Recollec- 
tions of,"  by  Stevens,  38,  footnote. 

Le  Sage,  Alain  Ren6,  his  "Gil  Bias,"  i43. 

"  Lest  we  forget  the  few  great  books,"  lo'i-ii^. 

Letters,  see  Capital  letters;   Manuscript;   Minuscules;   Silent  letters;  Type. 

Lewes,  George  Henry,  a  misprint  in  one  of  his  works,  i58. 

[  -78] 


INDEX 

Librarians,  "Books  as  a  librarian  would  like  them,"  44-48;  a  duty  to  their  succes- 
sors, io3;  meeting  of  British,  in  1882,  38. 

Libraries,  as  aflccted  by  spelling  reform,  i5o;  development  in  the  United  States  since 
1876,  io4;  electrical  batteries  of  power,  3o;  put  to  needless  expense  for  big  books, 
36,  for  rcbindings,  46;   "The  student  and  the  library,"  i39-i44- 

Library  Company  of  Philadelphia,  size  of  library  in  1875,  io4. 

Library  hand,  Bodoni's  italic  resembles,  i3o. 

Library  of  Congress,  size  in  1875,  io4. 

Lightness,  in  books,  deceptive,  93,  94. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  his  greatness  brought  by  responsibility,  i63. 

Lincoln  cent,  lettering  on,  i34. 

Line,  endings  should  not  show  too  many  hyphens,  69;  normal  length  for  legibility, 
117. 

Linnaeus,  quoted,  33. 

Linotype,  gives  a  turned  line,  i53. 

Literature,  the  book  beautiful  of  service  to,  63;  its  treasures,  63-78;  print  a  contribu- 
tion to,  1 5;  type  appropriate  to,  i36-i38. 

Little  and  Brown,  publishers,  their  "British  Poets"  compared  with  Pickering's  "  Al- 
dines,"  24- 

Little  Classic  editions,  20,  aS,  26. 

Littre,  Emile,  typography  of  his  "  Dictionnaire,"  i35. 

Lloyd,  Henry  Demarest,  on  headlines,  quoted,  i32. 

Locker-Lampson,  Frederick,  inappropriate  edition  of  his  "My  Confidences,"  13. 

London  Registrar  General,  misprint,  i55. 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth,  book  design  appropriate  to  his  "Works,"  11;  his 
"Michael  Angelo,"  87;  his  sonnets  on  Dante,  70;  holiday  edition  of  his  "  Skeleton 
in  Armor,"  137;   "Life,"  appropriate  edition  of,  12;  quoted,  68. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  member  of  New  England  group  of  authors,  75. 


MaCAULAY,  THOMAS  BABINGTON,  knew  "Paradise  Lost"  by  heart,  73. 

McClellan,  General  George  Brinton,  his  limitations,  i63. 

Malherbe,  Frangois,  welcomes  a  misprint,  157. 

Mammoth,  picture  of,  a  prehistoric  book,  79. 

Manuscript,  chief  difference  from  print,  i4;  distinctions  in,  16;  importance  to  book- 
making,  5i;  limitations  of,  16;  Ruskin  on,  5i;  still  used  in  private  records,  i5. 
See  also  Papyrus;    Parchment. 

Margin,  size  and  proportions  of,  56,  67. 

Marriage  service,  misprint  in,  i54. 

Material  of  the  book,  changed  twice  in  two  thousand  years,  92. 

Materials  of  writing,  86. 

Mather,  Cotton,  list  of  errata  in  his  "Magnalia,"  160. 

Mathews,  William,  as  an  author,  63;  his  memory  of  choice  passages,  63;  on  reading 
ten  pages  a  day,  108. 

Maxim,  Sir  Hiram,  quoted,  93. 

"Meaning,  Print  as  an  interpreter  of,''  i4-i8. 

[  -79  ] 


INDEX 

Meame,  Samuel,  binder,  lOO. 

Memory,  Erasmus  on  art  of  strengthening,  i66,  167;  value  of  a  well-stored,  63. 

"Men  of  the  Time,"  famous  misprint  in,  i53,  i54. 

Menage,  Gilles,  acknowledged  his  indebtedness  to  the  Elzevirs,  aa. 

Mexican  book,  pre-Columbian,  ornamented,  6;  described,  85,  86;  picture  writing  of, 

81. 
Michelangelo,  his  "  Moses"  as  a  product  of  genius,  65. 
Milton,  John,  debt  of  Daniel  Webster  to,  no;  gave  metric  hints  by  spelling,  18;  Haz- 

litt  on,  143;  his  greatness,  72,  78;  his  spelling,  i^Q,  i5o;  Lamb  would  say  grace 

before  reading,  77;  a  misprint  in  "Samson  Agonistes,"  169;  on  the  deprivation 

caused  by  his  blindness,  63,  64;  a  spelling  reformer,  149. 
Minuscules,  legibility,  iaa-ia4,  1^6;  of  late  origin,  iiS. 
Misprints,  "The  perversities  of  type,"  i5a-i6i. 
Montaigne,  "  Journal  of  his  travels,"  in  three  volumes,  la. 
Morgan,  Lloyd,  cited,  87. 
Morris,  William,  as  printer,  33,  34;  confesses  faults  of  ignorance  in  book  making,  5o; 

his  Kelmscott  editions,  "tribute  typography,"  137;    on  shape  of  dot  of  i,  61;  on 

types,  5,  lag,  i3o. 
Mosher,  Thomas  Bird,  his  "tribute  typography,"  137. 
Motteux,  Peter  Anthony,  his  translation  of  "Don  Quixote,"  i44. 
Moulton,  Charles  Wells,  "Library  of  Literary  Criticism,"  its  attractive  book  design,  i3. 


Names,  place  of,  in  development  of  the  alphabet,  81. 

Near  sight,  lao,  i3o. 

IS'ecker,  Jacques,  student's  blunder  concerning,  i54. 

New  England,  its  communities  of  readers,  a8,  29;  its  group  of  authors,  75,  76. 

New  Humanistic  type,  commended,  i38;  special  form  of  a,  ia3. 

New  York  Mercantile  Library,  size  in  1875,  io4. 

Newspapers,  extraordinary  development  of  speed  and  cheapness  in.  1 4;  legibility,  5, 
117,  i33,  i33;  opponents  of  spelling  reform,  i45;  place  in  reading,  106. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  quoted,  i44. 

Nickel,  as  a  substitute  for  paper,  g:t,  footnote. 

Novels,  in  a  favorite  book  size,  34;  in  illegible  type,  i3o;  on  reading,  107;  three- 
volume,  13;  typical  book  of  to-day,  35. 

"Nuremberg  Chronicle,"  a  characteristic  folio,  19. 

OCULIST'S  tests  of  legibility,  lao. 

Ormsby,  John,  his  translation  of  "Don  Quixote,"  i44. 

Ornamentation,  in  bindings,  6,  53,  100,  loi;  in  type,  lai. 

"Orthographic  reform,"  i45-i5i. 

Ossian,  Hazlitt  on,  i4l. 

Owen,  Robert,  a  famous  misprint  concerning,  i53. 

"Oxford  Book  of  English  Verse,"  thin-paper  edition  preferred,  gS. 

"Oxford  English  Dictionary,"  corrects  a  misprint,  i58;  its  typography,  i35. 

[   -So] 


INDEX 

Oxford  India  paper,  93,  Q^,  95;  miniature  editions  on,  i3i,  i3a. 
Oxford  students  cause  a  misprint  in  the  marriage  service,  l54. 
Oxford  University  Press,  reward  for  misprints,  i56. 


Page,  proportions  of,  4,  ^^t  55-57. 

Palm  leaves,  used  for  book  of  India,  85. 

Pannartz  and  Sweynheym,  grandeur  in  their  work,  4- 

Paper,  best  for  the  eye,  116,  lao;  buff  tinted,  for  legibility,  5,  6;  determines  the  expres- 
sion of  the  book,  tx,  5;  introduced  into  Europe,  84;  of  the  book  beautiful,  54; 
of  the  Chinese  book,  88-90;  "Thick  paper  and  thin,"  93-96;  three  elements  of,  5. 

Papcrmaker,  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  43. 

Papyrus  roll,  and  booklovers,  4;  described,  83-84- 

Parchment,  origin,  83,  84;  "  Parchment  bindings,"  I03,  io3;  parchment  book  and 
booklovers,  4- 

Payne,  Roger,  binder,  100. 

Peacock,  Thomas  Love,  his  novels  in  thick  and  thin  paper,  94,  gS. 

Peel,  Sir  Robert,  misprint  concerning,  i55. 

Penmanship,  see  Manuscript. 

Pergamum,  origin  of  parchment  in,  83,  84. 

"Periodical,  The,"  resembles  a  Chinese  book,  88,  90. 

"Personal  power,  A  secret  of,"  163-167. 

"Perversities  of  type,"  i53-i6i. 

Philadelphia  Mercantile  Library,  size  in  1875,  io4. 

"  Pbilobiblon,"  by  Richard  de  Bury,  significance  of  the  title,  8. 

Photogravures,  in  connection  with  type,  6. 

Pickering,  William,  a  disciple  of  Aldus,  a3;  his  characteristic  books,  a3,  a4,  compared 
with  Little  and  Brown's  "British  Poets,"  34,  their  predecessors,  contemporaries, 
and  successors,  a4;  his  "diamond  classics"  on  large  paper,  i3i,  183;  method  of 
book  design,  4i;  publisher,  38. 

Picture  writing,  80,  81. 

Pictures,  earliest  books  were,  79-81.     See  also  Illustrations. 

Pillow,  General  Gideon  Johnson,  misprints  concerning,  157. 

Pindar,  as  characterized  by  Mrs.  Browning,  68. 

Plato,  as  characterized  by  Mrs.  Browning,  68;  contributor  to  Bible  of  humanity,  68; 
riches  of,  68. 

Pocket  editions,  aa,  33. 

Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  quoted,  38,  l53,  i58;  small  bulk  of  his  poetry,  69. 

Poetry,  Hazlitt  on,  i4i.  i43;  print  as  an  interpreter  of  its  meaning,  17,  18;  type 
appropriate  to,  i37,  i38. 

Pope,  Alexander,  a  ghost  word  referred  to  him,  i58,  ibg;  Hazlitt  on,  i43. 

Possessions,  distinguished  from  Property,  3i,  33. 

"Power,  A  secret  of  personal,"  162-167. 

Powers  of  leadership  developed  under  stress,  i63. 

Pre-Columbian  book,  see  Mexican. 

Prehistoric  background  of  the  book,  79-81. 

[  '8.  ] 


INDEX 

Press,  errors  of,  i5a-i6i. 

Pressman,  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o-Aa. 

Presswork,  requirements  of,  58. 

Prices,  as  affected  by  italic,  ao,  by  the  small  books  of  the  Elzevirs,  32;  fancy,  what 
they  mean,  7;  of  choice  books  compared  with  those  of  other  art  objects,  49 ;  of 
choice  books  not  excessive,  7. 

"Print  as  an  interpreter  of  meaning,"  i4-i8.     See  also  Typography. 

Printer,  as  affected  by  spelling  reform,  i5o;  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  4i;  what  the  b'bra- 
rian  asks  of  him,  47,  48. 

Printer's  errors,  i5a-i6i. 

Printing,  added  only  speed  and  cheapness  to  book  production,  i4;  distinctions  to  the 
eye  in,  16-18;  of  Chinese  books,  88;  "Printing  problems  for  science  to  solve," 
iiS-iig;  would  be  benefited  by  contemporary  calligraphy,  5i.  See  also  Typog- 
raphy. 

Privilege  of  the  reader,  68-78. 

"  Problems,  Printing,  for  science  to  solve,"  iiS-iig. 

Progress,  possible  only  in  the  field  of  knowledge,  ag,  3o. 

Proof,  authors*  additions  in,  i5. 

Proofreader,  requirements  of,  58;  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  4l« 

Properly,  distinguished  from  Possessions,  3i,  3a. 

Proportions  of  the  page,  4.  4^,  55-57. 

Prosody,  see  Poetry. 

Public,  value  of  reading  to  the,  38,  39. 

Publication  of  books  for  iQiS,  io5. 

Publisher,  librarian's  grievance  against  the,  45-47;  a  spoiler  of  books,  4o,  4i- 

Punctuation,  and  legibility,  I3i;  in  poetry,  17-18. 

Puritans,  less  modern  than  Horace,  69;  a  Puritan's  devotion  to  Calvin,  166;  Shake- 
speare best  reading  for,  7a. 

Putnam,  George  Haven,  on  the  Elzevirs,  aa. 


Rapid  reading,  1 4-17- 

Rare  books,  relatively  cheap,  49- 

Readable  print,  see  Legibility. 

"Reader's  high  privilege,"  68-78. 

Reading,  aid  of  print  to,  i4,  17;  amount  possible  in  a  lifetime,  io5;  Erasmus  on  art 
of,  166;  John  Bealtie  Crozieron,  iii,  iia;  "  Lest  we  forget  the  few  great  books," 
io4-ii4;  means  intellectual  effort,  74;  of  contemporaries,  76,  77;  results  of  ten 
pages  a  day,  108;  "The  student  and  the  library,"  189—144;  systematic,  74-76; 
true  end  and  aim  of,  78;  value,  to  the  public  and  to  the  individual,  38-83;  when 
travelling,  32,  28. 

Reading  aloud,  print  as  an  aid  to,  17,  18. 

Rehindings,  costly,  unnecessary,  46. 

Rebus,  place  in  development  of  alphabet,  81. 

Reference  botjks,  iSB;  effective  typography  of,  16,  17. 

Reformed  spelling,  i45-i5i. 

[  '8^  ] 


INDEX 

Registration,  requirements  of,  69. 

RembraDcIt,  his  drawing  of  the  elephant,  80;  his  "School  of  Anatomy,"  as  a  product 
of  genius,  65. 

Reprinting  of  perishable  records,  /JG. 

Responsibility,  a  stimulus  to  greatness,   iH3. 

"  Uespublicae  Variae,"  published  hy  llie  Klzevirs,  described,  32,  a3. 

"  Hheloricorum  ad  C  Hcrenniuni  Lihri  llll,"  the  Aldus  edition  of  1 546  described,  ai. 

Roethlcin,  Barbara  Elizabeth,  on  "The  relative  legibility  of  difl'erent  faces  of  printing 
types,"  ia/i-137. 

Rogers,  Bruce,  his  Centaur  ty[)e  commended,  iSa. 

Roll,  see  Papyrus. 

Roman  alphabet,  see  Alphabet. 

Roman  codex,  see  Codex. 

Roman  literature,  masterpieces  of,  68,  69. 

Romance  literatures,  i^A- 

Romans,  surpassed  by  moderns  in  knowledge,  3o. 

Royal  octavo,  pitfall  of  the  book  designer,  la,  i3. 

Ruskin,  John,  editions  of  his  works  contrasted,  i3;  on  manuscript  books,  5i;  on  read- 
ing Sir  Walter  Scott,  109. 

Russia,  annual  book  publication,  io5;  illiterate  communities  of,  a8,  39. 


Sanborn,  franklin  benjamin,  his  "Beacon  Biography"  of  Longfellow,  75. 

Sanford,  Edmund  Clark,  on  "The  relative  legibility  of  the  small  letters,"  laa-ia/i. 

Scaliger,  Julius  Caesar,  his  learning,  106. 

Schiller,  cited,  Sa. 

School  books,  misforttme  of  treating  classics  as  such,  68,  69;   type  in,  5,  117. 

School  children,  increase  of  near  sight  among,  lao. 

School  of  typography,  proposed  by  Henry  Stevens,  4o-43. 

Science,  "Printing  problems  for  science  to  solve,"  ii5— 119. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  alterations  in  the  proof-sheets  of  his  "  Waverley  Novels,"  i5;  a 
ghost  word  in  his  "Monastery,"  i58;  Goethe  on,  no;  Ruskin  on,  109. 

"  Secret  of  personal  power,"  162—167. 

Sequoyah,  his  Cherokee  syllabary,  i46. 

Serifs,  necessary  to  prevent  irradiation,  123;  source  of  confusion  in  types,  laS,  ia4- 

Shakespeare,  William,  "Hamlet"  preferred  in  youth,  in;  Hazlitt  on,  i^a;  his 
"  Apocrypha,"  on  thin  paper,  93;  his  character  and  greatness,  70-73;  Lamb  would 
say  grace  before  reading,  77;  "Lear"  preferred  in  old  age,  in;  misprints  in  his 
works,  167;  privilege  of  reading,  6^1,  71,  72;  quoted,  9,  54;  reading,  77;  the 
spelling  of  his  works,  149,   i5o;   tribute  of  Blackmore  to.  1 10. 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe,  an  editor's  error  in  his  "Skylark,"  i57,  i58;  inappropriate 
Korman  edition  of,  11;   read  bv  \onng  men,  IIT. 

Shelton,  Thomas,  his  translation  of  "Don  Quixote,"  i44- 

Sight,  relation  of  the  elements  of  the  book  to,  5,  6,  116-119;  "Types  and  eyes:  The 
problem,"  120-127, —  "Progress,"   128— 133. 

Sign  language,  80. 

[   '8;^  ] 


INDEX 

Silent  letters,  cost  to  English  world,  i^"]. 

Size,  determines  expression  of  the  book,  4;  "Favorite  book  siies,"  19-27;  of  books 
preferred  by  librarian,  47;  of  letters  and  legibility,  i34,  i35;  question  of  an  ideal 
size  of  type,  117;  standardization  of  book  sizes,  a6,  wj.  See  also  Bigness;  Thick- 
ness;   Thinness. 

Skeat,  Walter  William,  on  ghost  words,  i58. 

Smirke,  Robert,  illustrator  of  Barlow's  "Columbiad,"  10. 

Smollett,  Tobias  George,  on  reading  him,  1^3. 

Society  of  Printers,  address  under  its  auspices,  3,  note. 

Socrates,  in  a  Bible  of  humanity,  68. 

Sophocles,  as  characterized  by  Mrs.  Browning,  67,  68. 

Southey,  Robert,  a  favorite  edition  of,  3^. 

Spacing,  between  words,  lai;  of  letters  in  words,  lao. 

Spain,  illiterate  communities  of,  38,  ag. 

Spanish,  language,  i44;   spelling,  i47- 

Spectacles,  a  measure  of  civilization,  lao. 

Spedding,  James,  at  Cambridge  University,  139. 

Spelling,  Milton  gave  metric  hints  by,  18;   "Orthographic  reform,"  i45-i5i. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  Hazlitt  on,  1^3;  his  spelling,  1^9;  Lamb  would  say  grace  before 
reading  the  "Fairy  Queen,"  77;   Milton's  spiritual  kinship  to,  7a. 

Standardization  of  book  sizes,  a6,  37. 

Sterne,  Laurence,  a  favorite  edition  of,  a4. 

Stevens,  Henry,  "\  constructive  critic  of  the  book,"  38-43;  detects  a  misprint,  i56; 
his  "My  English  library,"  39;  his  "Recollections  of  Mr.  James  Lenox,"  38,  foot- 
note. 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis,  on  Hazlitt.  i4i' 

Stoddard.  Richard  Henry,  on  Cervantes  and  Shakespeare,  70. 

Storage  of  books,  see  Bigness,  Thickness,  Thinness. 

Strasshurg  Cathedral,  as  a  product  of  genius,  65. 

"Student,  The,  and  the  Library,"  i39-i44- 

Study,  art  of,  166,  167. 

Success,  won  by  knowledge,  3o. 

Swedish  spelling,  i48. 

Sweynheym  and  Pannartz,  grandeur  in  their  work,  4. 

1  ASTE,  see  Esthetics. 

Tauchnitz  editions,  compared  with  Little  Classic  editions,  36. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  and  his  brothers  at  Cambridge  University,  189;  inappropriate  edi- 
tion of  his  "Life,"  11;  a  novel  reader,  107. 

Tests,  of  the  utility  of  the  book,  1 15;  of  type,  130-137. 

Thackeray,  William  Makepeace,  at  Cambridge  University,  iSfl;  on  reading  him,  i43; 
quoted,  ii;   works  in  illegible  print,  i3o. 

Theocritus,  as  characterized  bv  Mrs.  Browning,  68. 

Thickness,  in  books,  esthetic  effect  of,  33,  a5;    "Thick  paper  and  thin,"  93-96. 

Thinness,  in  books,  esthetic  offect  of,  a3;   "Tliick  paper  and  thin,"  93-96. 

Thompson,  Francis,  indicated  caesura  bv  an  asterisk,   18. 

[   .8/,  ] 


INDEX 

Thomson,  James,  Hazlitt  on,  i/(a. 

Thoreau,  Henry  David,  member  of  the  New  England  group  of  authors,  76,  76. 

Thou,  Jacques  Auguste  de,  binding  made  for,  100. 

Title-page,  problems  of,  Sg. 

Torrey,  Joseph,  on  reading  Dante,    109,  iio. 

Translations  of  "  Don  Quixote,"  i43,  i44. 

Tribute  typography,  9-18,  l36,  187. 

Type,  aims  in  its  design,  5,  117,  118;  Chinese,  80;  contrast  of,  16,  17;  "Exceptions 
to  the  rule  of  legibility,"  i35-i88,  i3o,  i3i;  faults  of  German  and  French,  117; 
in  relation  to  the  book  beautiful,  57-69,  61;  page,  56,  67;  "Perversities  of  type," 
i52-i6i;  reform  of,  118;  "Types  and  eyes:  The  problem,"  120-127,  —  "Prog- 
ress," 128-188.     See  a/so  Italic;   Page. 

Typewriting,  a  form  of  print,  i5. 

Typography,  primarily  a  reduction  of  cost,  Ii5;  school  of,  proposed  by  Henry  Stevens, 
/io-43;  tribute  typography,  9-18,  i36,  137;   a  triumph  of,  16.      See  also  Print. 

UlMTED  STATES,  annual  book  publication,   io5;  library  development  since   1875, 

io4. 
Updike,  Daniel  Berkeley,  his  comic  edition  of  Irving's  "Knickerbocker,"  10,  11;  his 

specimen  pages  of  the  "  Imitatio  Christi,"  i36. 

V  ALUE  of  reading,  to  the  public  and  to  the  individual,"  28-82. 
Values,  two  great  classes,  3i,  82. 
Vergil,  Dante's  master,  69;    did  not  write  for  children,  68;  his  Aeneid,  69;   scanty 

punctuation  in  earliest  manuscript  of,  17. 
Verse,  see  Poetry. 
Vision,  see  Sight. 

W  ARD,  ARTEMUS,  pseudonym,  adopts  a  misprint,  iSy. 
Webster,  Daniel,  debt  to  Milton,  no. 

Webster,  Noah,  his  "Collegiate  Dictionary"  on  thin  paper  preferred,  go;  his  "Un- 
abridged Dictionary"  on  large  paper,  i3i. 
Wendell,  Barrett,  on  Barlow's  "Columbiad,"  10. 
\N  heatley,  Henry  Benjamin,  on  "Literary  blunders,"  i56,    167. 
Whitman,  Walt,  on  the  worlds  greatest  books,    11 3,  ii4. 
Whittier,  John  Greenleaf,  member  of  New  England  group  of  authors,  75. 
Whittingham,  Charles,  method  of  book  design,  4i;  printer,  38. 
"Who  spoils  our  new  English  books?"  by  Henry  Stevens,  38. 
Wilberforce,  Samuel,  Bishop  of  Oxford,  a  famous  misprint  concerning,  i53,  i54. 
W^ordsworth,  Dorothy,  on  favorite  books,  3. 

Wordsworth,  William,  a  favorite  edition  of,  a'l:   read  by  old  men,  in. 
World  Almanac,  commended,  i3o,  i3i. 
W  riting,  see  Authorship;   Manuscript;   Materials. 

AENOPHON,  contributor  to  a  Bible  of  humanity,  68;  did  not  write  for  children,  68- 

[   '85  ] 


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